


Take off the suit: Who are you?

by WritingPains



Series: Hidden in plain sight [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Arc Reactor, Awesome James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Character Death, Domestic Avengers, Hurt Tony, Iron Man One onwards, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Kid Fic, Kid Tony, Kid Tony Stark, Minor Character Death, Parent Bruce Banner, Parent Clint Barton, Parent Natasha Romanov, Parent Steve Rogers, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Post-Iron Man 1, Pre-Iron Man 1, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Secret Identity, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Young Tony Stark, alternative universe, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2020-03-24 02:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 67
Words: 96,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18998071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingPains/pseuds/WritingPains
Summary: Anthony Stark is twelve years old when he's kidnapped by the Ten Rings. He goes into those caves as the beloved son of Howard and Maria Stark and comes out at Ironman.For the first time in his life, he has a secret to keep, and he doesn't intend for anyone to find out. Not his parents, not Jarvis, and not the Avengers...Especially the Avengers.Unfortunately, secrets aren't easy to keep and the world isn't easy to save.Fortunately, Tony's father taught him that sometimes trying is the only thing people can expect from him.(Follows the story from Ironman 1 onwards.)





	1. Chapter 1

Take away the suit; Who _are_ you?

 

“Master Anthony, please, you need rest,” Jarvis urges.

“No, Jarvis, what I need is to finish this,” Tony argues, his hand gesturing to the workshop table covered in crap that Jarvis couldn’t even begin naming. “You’ll appreciate it when I do, I swear.”

“Master Anthony, the only thing I appreciate is your health. Now, please, I must insist, come to bed.”

“But _Jarvis,_ come on.”

Jarvis shakes his head and takes Tony’s wrist. He doesn’t grip it hard enough to hurt, only to add enough pressure to remind the boy that there’s a world beyond the project he’s working on. As per usual, Tony’s head snaps to his wrist and then slowly looks up at Jarvis’s face.

“You’ve been down here for sixteen hours. You need a proper meal and then bed.”

Tony looks back down at his project and then rubs at his eyes, smearing grease across his face.

“I’m not a baby,” Tony grumbles, even as he clears up the work desk. “I don’t need to be looked after.”

“No, you’re twelve, and you need someone to _manage_ you,” Jarvis corrects. “Now, come along. Ana has made your favourite.”

Tony skips giddily to the door, looking back every few seconds to ensure that Jarvis is still following. Ana always knows when he needs a pick-me-up. Usually, Tony spending twenty hours uninterrupted isn’t unheard of, but he’d had a big argument with his father earlier today.

Tony hadn’t wanted to go on the business trip with uncle Obie, but his father insisted that now was the time he started to have a more active role in the company and orchestrating a weapons demonstration with his fathers right-hand man was the best introduction to the live.

Tony didn’t want to go for many reasons. First, Uncle Obie is a damn bore. Tony loves him, of course he does, but he only ever wants to talk about Tony’s ‘ideas’ for the future, and usually Tony doesn’t think much past the project he’s working on for his robotics team or what he’s going to read that afternoon.

Second, Tony has never travelled that far without either of his parents there with him. Afghanistan is a _long_ way away, but it’s always further when _he’s_ the one travelling and not his parents. He doesn’t want to go without them. But his father has insisted upon it.

The only reprieve from the enforced trip was that Colonel Rhodes would be there. He’s the military liaison between Stark Industries and the air force, and he’s been around since Tony was a toddler. Their friendship started off with hair ruffles and secret candy, but as Tony got old enough to form full sentences, he was able to have real conversations with Rhodes, and Tony considers Rhodey his best friend.

“You’ll be fine,” Jarvis assures, as they head upstairs. “Obadiah and Colonel Rhodes will keep you safe.”

“I’m not worried about being safe. I’m worried about being bored. I wish you could come with me.”

“Me too, Anthony, but your father is almost as careless with his health as you are. Someone has to stay behind to watch over him.”

Tony giggles as jumps up on a stool, where Ana starts serving him risotto with a loving smile.

Tony digs in, hungrier than he’d even noticed. Once he’s eaten, he’s ushered into the bathroom with strict instructions to wash and brush his teeth.

Tony climbs into bed that night, staring resentfully at the packed suitcase by the door. He’s not looking forward to this trip, but it’ll appease his father and if he thinks about it right, it’ll be like an extended vacation with his best friend.

 

~

 

“Tony!”

Tony grins and runs up to the jet, throwing himself in Rhodes’s arm.

“Rhodey! Hi!”

Rhodey gives him a tight squeeze and then leads him inside, where Uncle Obie was already sat, a tumbler of scotch in his hand and a stack of paper in front of his. He looked up at Tony’s arrival and stood to greet him with a crushing hug. Tony didn’t like the smell of alcohol, but he greeted his Uncle enthusiastically anyway.

“Your father told me you weren’t happy about making this trip, but I’m glad he talked you into it. It’s about time you get your fingers in the family business, Anthony, my boy. Come, we’re about to take off. Put on your seat belt.”

Tony does as he’s told, sitting in a chair opposite Rhodes, who calls the stewardess to bring them both some orange juice.

Rhodes can sometimes be talked into drinking during work, but he never drinks around Tony. Tony appreciates it. His father makes the effort sometimes, too. He doesn’t want Tony to think that alcohol is a healthy crutch, but Tony knows his father has a bottle of whiskey under his desk. Tony used to spend a lot of time playing under there as a child, often being given chocolate by his father when his mother wasn’t there to scold them for it.

“Miss Potts has sent word ahead that the demonstration will be on schedule. We have some time to settle into the hotel when we get there, and we’ll be picked up by a convoy in the morning. Jarvis packed you a suit, as far as I’m aware, and Mr Rhodes is providing a vest.”

Rhodes bristles at the lack of recognition for his position, but he nods anyway.

“A _bullet-proof_ vest?” Tony asks, shaken. “Will I need one?”

“Not at all,” Rhodes assures.

“But it’s better safe than sorry, my boy.”

Tony nods, but he’s suddenly far more apprehensive about this trip than he was a moment ago.

“Don’t worry, Tones,” Rhodes says, putting a hand on the table between the two of them. “I’ll keep you by my side the entire time. It’s just a demonstration. I’ve done these a dozen times with your father and we’ve never had a problem.”

Tony nods again, his gaze straying to the window.

Little did any of them know that less than twenty-four hours later, Tony would be thrown into a dirty cave with a bloody chest.

“Save him,” someone orders, the words barely breaching Tony’s conscious. “Do whatever you have to.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets Yinsen

Tony wakes up to a man above him with his hands in his chest. The pain and terror are so high that he falls unconscious again barely a second later.

 

 

Tony wakes up to shouting, panicked orders to get more blood and a face covered in a mask above his head.

“I’m doing what I can, kid, I promise.”

Tony doesn’t know what that means, but his mind falls back, and everything goes dark.

 

 

Tony wakes again, and this time he knows he’s bound to stay conscious. The pain in his chest is still there, but somehow not as prominent as it was when he’d woken the last two time. Drowsily, he lifts a hand to his face and tries to rub away the sleep there. Instead, his fingers encounter something else.

He pulls on it, only to feel the most unpleasant sensation from the back of his throat to his nostril. Feeling no more coherent but far more panicked, Tony pulls faster, until a tube lands on his lap. Shaking, Tony lifts it up to inspect it, but when he tries to sit up, a flare of pain burns at his chest. The pain is enough to shock a scream out of him, and a second later, someone has their hands on his shoulders.

“Tony, you need to calm down. Don’t move.”

“ _Get off me!”_ Tony screeches.

His eyes take in his surroundings, and he finds nothing familiar. The walls are stone, there are wires everywhere, a furnace to the side, and a set of large iron doors. It's cold, it’s dirt, and it smells terrible.

Tony’s lower lip quivers as his fingers explore his chest, ignoring the pain. There’s a circular module in his chest, and the wires from it lead into a car battery. The skin around it looks horrendous, and Tony’s shaking fingers trace the rim of the device.

“You had shrapnel in your chest,” the man explains. “We needed something to keep it from getting to your heart.”

“An electromagnet,” Tony guesses, his voice weak with disbelief. “In my chest.”

The man moves from Tony’s side to stand in front of him. He’s got a kind face, but Tony has learnt that faces mean nothing. People are deceptive, and this man may be the one who took Tony. However, considering the circumstances in which he finds them both and the state of the man’s clothing, Tony can only construe that they’re both captives.

“What happened?” Tony whispers.

Yinsen throws himself into the explanation, and Tony has the thin, ragged blankets in his fists as he listens. His chest tightens in fear, and by the end, he can’t help but let a few tears spill.

“I want my dad,” Tony begs, sounding like a stupid baby, but he doesn’t care. “I want my mom, my dad, my Jarvis, my Rhodes. I don’t want to be here.”

The man carefully wraps an arm around Tony’s shoulder, and he looks equally as distraught.

“I can’t believe they brought a child into this,” the man hisses. “I’ll do everything I can to help you get out, but I can’t… it’s not that easy.”

As if to prove a point, a second later, the door is thrown open, and several men come barging in. Two of them grab Tony and pull him away, while another points a gun at the other captives’ head.

Tony screams as he’s dragged from the room, and the man who helped him watches on sadly, as though he knows what is going to happen.

“Shut it up,” one of the men complains in heavily accented English.

Tony whimpers around the dirty hand someone presses against his mouth, and he’s bodily lifted off the ground and carried into another room. The battery is placed on a chair, and his hands are being restrained behind his back. Once they deem them tight enough, they shove Tony into the chair, and something is placed over his head.

The man around him are talking, but the words are all foreign to Tony. He doesn’t understand them at all, and it’s making everything scarier. He feels like his heart is going to explode from the fear, and his body is positively shivering.

He just wants to go _home._

 

Later that day, after they had made him stare at a stupid camera (likely for ransom), he’s taken back into the room. One of the men has a tight grip on his arm, and he knows that it’s going to leave a mark.

They’re talking to the other man, and Tony uses that time to look around at all their weapons. None of them is particularly high-tech, which means this place isn’t as well funded as he would have thought. Kidnapping a Stark is no easy task, especially the lone heir. Tony can’t figure out how they managed to get through Obie, who is pretty good with strategical safety procedures, or Rhodes, who is fierce and intelligent, and everything Tony wants to be in the future.

“They want you to build the weapons for them,” the man translates.

Tony blinks once, and then twice.

“I can’t build weapons,” he states blandly. “Dad never let me.”

The man translates.

“They say you are a genius. They expect you to have it done. If you succeed, they will let you go.”

“No, they won’t,” Tony says, biting his lip.

“No, they won’t,” the man admits.

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t build them anything.”

The man translates, though he looks like he’s doing it reluctantly. Tony discovers later why that is.

 

“ _Please—STOP._ ”

Tony is dying, he’s sure of it. His head is being pushed under the water until his body screams to be given air, and then pulled up just before he actually fills his lungs. Before he’s able to breathe correctly, he’s thrust back under.

They repeat it, again and again, until eventually, Tony simply passes out from the exhaustion and fear and pain.

When he wakes up, he’s back on the bed in the cave, and the man is leaning over him.

“I’m Yinsen, by the way,” the man says softly.

“Tony,” Tony manages to croak.

“I know.”

Tony is depleted. He has no energy. His body aches and his throat sears and his lungs burn, and he just wants to go home. Why can’t he just go back?

 

“We met before, you know,” Yinsen says, as they eat their bread and water.

Tony is tearing apart the bread with his shaky fingers and trying not to look at the water. It makes him feel sick, and it brings about an uncomfortable uneasiness in him. He’ll drink it only because he needs to, but the simple thought of it freaks him out.

“We did?” Tony latches on gratefully to the distraction. “When? I’m usually good with faces.”

“I’d be surprised if you remembered me. It was in Stockholm, and I think you were about eight years old. It was almost midnight, and you were half asleep holding your dad’s hand. It was quite the contrast from you earlier that night. You were causing quite the scene at dinner.”

Tony throws his mind back and grins.

“I tried to make automatic saltshakers,” he remembers. “Dad was so angry, but he said I could have ice-cream anyway.”

“Despite that sugar, you were barely awake to welcome in the new year.”

Tony smiles at the memory, but it crumbles a second later.

“I miss my dad.”

Yinsen doesn’t hesitate to pull Tony is for a hug. Tony sobs into his shoulder, scared, confused and desperate to see his family again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final stint in the cave.

A day later, Tony has endured the water torture three more times before he gives in. He’s ashamed of himself for breaking so quickly, but what is he supposed to do about it? It won’t stop unless he agrees to their terms, and he knows that they won’t let him die. He’s begged for that already.

Once they hear the words come out of his mouth, he’s hauled to his feet and dragged away. At first, he thinks that they’re taking him to the room he’s been in for the last few days, but they make a turn, and suddenly he’s being blinded by sunlight.

He cringes away from it, but he’s shoved forward, and eventually, his eyes adjust.

What he sees makes his blood run cold.

Around him are stalls filled with weapons, and as he’s marched forward, he can see that they’re all Stark Industries weapons.

“How did you get all this?” Tony demands.

A dull smack on the back of his head throws him forward, and he lands on his knees, the car battery knocking painfully against the magnet. He gasps in pain but doesn’t have time to curl up and suffer through. Two sets of hands grab his upper arms, and he’s pulled back into standing position.

“Don’t talk unless spoken to,” a new voice orders.

Tony turns and finds a man walking towards them.

“Ah, Anthony Stark, what a pleasure.”

Tony sneers at him.

“You tell us what you need to build what we want, and we’ll bring it to you. Maybe, if you behave, we’ll bring you some ice-cream. How about that?”

Tony glowers at him, not in the least bit motivated by the idea of ice cream. What he wants is to not have to endure another minute of torture again. Because of that, he starts pointing out items, and when he’s done, he’s taken back to the room.

Yinsen doesn’t judge him. He understands.

“You’re strong,” Yinsen promises.

“I _broke,_ ” Tony laments. “I told them I’d work for them.”

Yinsen squeezes his shoulder.

“But you have no intention of doing that, do you?”

Tony grins.

“Not in my life.”

Yinsen smiles.

 

Within two weeks, Tony has managed to build a miniature arc reactor. Yinsen wasn’t sure if it would work, but he was thoroughly impressed when it was done. He helped Tony load it into his chest and then watched with bated breath for any signs that it wasn’t working.

“You truly are a genius,” Yinsen praises.

“So I’ve been told. I’ve already got early access to MIT, you know. Dad says I need to wait until I’m fourteen, though. Apparently, twelve is too young for college.”

“Your father is right,” Yinsen nods.

“Shame I might never get there.”

Silence falls upon them, but Tony doesn’t let it last long.

“Let’s cannibalise this,” Tony stays, gesturing to the pile of weapons in the corner. “See what else my genius can create.”

 

It takes two months. Two exhausting months, in which time Tony has wondered where his dad was, where Rhodes was, where Obie was. Were they even looking for him? Did they want to find him?

In those two months, Tony has taken apart a few hundred weapons that they never should have had. He’s forged armour and managed to keep it hidden. He’s built enough of the actual weapon they want to not raise suspicion.

He also never got that ice cream.

“We’re _days_ away from completion,” Tony says excitedly. “We’ll both be free again, and we can go back to our families.”

Yinsen smiles indulgently, but Tony doesn’t notice, too caught up in his work.

A loud crash outside, followed by shouting, has Tony’s heart racing.

“Crap.”

“Those days… can you turn them into minutes?” Yinsen asks.

“I’ll have to. Climb into the armour,” Tony orders.

Yinsen doesn’t move.

“Dude, come on, we don’t have time. Get in. I’ll load it up, and you can get us out of here.”

“You need more time,” Yinsen says.

Tony reaches out to grab the mans jacket before he’s able to get away.

“It’s too risky,” Tony says. “Please, don’t. Just… stick with the plan!”

Yinsen pries Tony’s hands from his jacket and lifts him up.

“Yinsen, put me down!”

But he doesn’t. He carefully straps Tony into the suit, all the while Tony is begging him not to. He’s not strong enough to fight though. He’s stuck, and he watches with baleful eyes as Yinsen lifts two large guns from the weapons pile and carries them out.

With one last backwards glance, he smiles at Tony.

“I’ll be waiting on the other side, Tony.”

Tony nods, and then he stares at the small computer screen as the loading bar fills. It’s agonisingly slow, and all he can hear is the shouting and gunfire. Any one of those bullets could be the one that ends Yinsen’s life, and Tony finds himself praying that he gets to see his friend again.

 Finally, the computer loads up, and the suit comes to life with a groan.

The suit was made for someone much bigger than him, but he’s able to pull it free of the ropes that were holding it up. The feet crash into the ground, and the mask comes down over Tony’s face. He lifts his arms, though it’s heavy and painful. At the end of each hand are weapons, and he’s ready to kill some terrorists, save his friend and then see his family again.

Tony stomps out of the room and walks into the hallways. He’s been dragged through them enough that he knows how to get out by now. He lifts his arm as a group of people with guns around the corner. Foolishly, or arguably _very_ bravely, they open fire. The bullets ping from the armour and Tony grins behind the mask.

He releases a stream of fire from one arm and a flurry of bullets from the other. The people fall like bowling pins, and Tony’s stomach turns sickeningly. He never wanted to hurt people, but he knows there is no way to just incapacitate them.

He walks past their bodies, purposefully not looking at them. He follows the hallways until he hears more gunfire, only this time it’s not aimed at him. Every time a person comes out of the shadows to try and stop him, he kills them instantly. He’s forcing his mind to ignore that part, allowing his sole focus to be surviving and finding Yinsen.

Tony finds Yinsen collapses on a pile of rice bags. He’s bleeding from his shoulder, but he’s smiling.

“Come on then,” he says casually. “Let’s get out of here.”

Tony holds out an arm with a grin, but before Yinsen can take it, a bullet hole appears in his forehead and his falls limp.

Tony turns to find the man who spoke English standing to the side.

“You thought you would win?” the man growls. “You will lose. You will always lose.”

Tony doesn’t feel any conflict when he lifts a hand and shoots the man in the chest.

Tony fights his way out of the cave and then sets fire to every piece of weaponry they shouldn’t have ever owned. He puts power in the thrusters and then flies away as the entire base explodes behind him. It’s not as satisfying as he had hoped it would be. He’d expected Yinsen to be with him, but he’s not. He’s dead. And he’s the only reason Tony _isn’t_.

The suit loses power after twenty minutes, and Tony crashes to the ground, and the suit falls apart around him. He cries out in pain, and his skin rubs irritatedly against the coarse sand, leaving lesions on his skin.

He lays in the sand for a while, crying and writhing in pain, be he knows he can’t stay there for long. If any one of those monsters survived, they'd be coming after him, and he needs to get away. He’s not even sure where he’s going to go, but forward is an excellent choice for now.

Tony struggles to his feet and starts to walk. After several hours, he pulls his over shirt over his head, to protect him from the sun. Unfortunately, his body is weakening. He hasn’t had proper food for three months, but the bread and water have kept him going. Now, he has no energy, and the heat is only making his dehydration worse.

Just as he’s about to give in, just as he’s ready to call it quits and die, he hears a noise. It sounds suspiciously like helicopter propellers, and he looks up. The sunlight burns at his retinas, but what he sees brings him to his knees and tears fall freely down his face.

From one of the several helicopters, Rhodes jumps out and rushes towards him.

“Tony,” he gasps, choking as he pulls his friend into his arms.

“Rhodey,” he cries.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony sees his father again.

Tony is lifted off the ground and moved into the helicopter. His body hurts, and he can’t stop crying. Rhodey tries to talk to him, but none of the words makes any sense to him. It’s all nonsense to him, and the first time he feels even vaguely coherent is when Rhodey lays him down on a hospital gurney.

“No!” Tony begs, reaching out to grab Rhodey’s hand. “Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t, Tony, I promise, but I need to get a first aid kit to stop the bleeding.”

Tony looks down at himself and finds that he sustained more injuries on the fall than he even realised. Rhodey doesn’t leave his sight as he reaches under the seats and pulls out a first aid kit.

“I can only really try and stop the bleeding, but when we get to the plane, you will have a proper doctor to help.”

Tony flinches as Rhodey cleans the cuts on his face and arms, but when Rhodey tries to lift his shirt, Tony jolts upwards and pushes Rhodey away and curls in on himself.

“Tony?”

Tony starts rocking, tightening his arms around his knees.

“Tony, come on, I need to be able to check.”

Tony shakes his head fervently, and Rhodey takes a step back, concern seeping out of his pores. He looks at a loss, but there’s anger in his eyes.

“I can’t,” Tony gasps. “Please.”

“What did they do to you?” Rhodey asks, fearfully.

Tony considers his options. Maybe the only person that will truly understand the new addition to his chest is his father, and he’s scared to show anyone else. He’s suddenly far more vulnerable than he has ever been in his life. While he doesn’t believe Rhodey will do anything to hurt him, the fact remains that the more people that know about the reactor in his chest, the higher the chance of someone using it against him.

“Tony… did they… did they _touch_ you?”

Tony shakes his head, and the anger and disgust melts away from Rhodey’s face. He’s still concerned and confused though.

“Then, what’s wrong?”

Tony takes a deep breath and checks that the pilot isn’t paying them any attention. He doesn’t need more eyes on him than necessary. He can trust Rhodey. He won’t tell anyone, especially if Tony begs him not to.

He uncurls and slowly lifts his shirt, wincing at the pain.

“Oh shit,” Rhodey whispers uncharacteristically. “Is that—”

“A miniature arc reactor. One of the bombs went off next to me, and there’s shrapnel in my chest. We had to build an electromagnet to get it out. At first, it was attached to a car battery, but after the waterboarding, I knew that it was only a matter of time before they accidentally electrocuted me to death, so Yinsen and I built this. You can’t tell anyone!”

Rhodey is gaping, his eyes hard and his face paling.

“Waterboarded?”

Tony hangs his head. He really doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“OK. OK. We won’t… this thing in your chest, is there anything I can do?”

Tony shakes his head sadly, and Rhodey starts to clean the other cuts around his chest before helping Tony put his shirt back on.

“Where is my dad?” Tony whispers. “I want to see my dad.”

“He’s at the airport. We’re going straight there, and then we’ll get you on a plane and back home in no time.”

Rhodey takes Tony’s hand, and they spend the rest of the ride in silence, Tony thinking about seeing his family again and Rhodey thinking about how much he’d love to be able to rip apart the bastards who hurt his friend.

 

“Tony?”

Tony was almost asleep as they descended onto the tarmac of the airport, but the familiar voice jolted him awake. He looks around, first seeing Rhodey who was holding his hand and then his Dad, who was running towards him.

Tony carefully climbed off the helicopter and then ducked out under the propellers, ignoring Rhodey’s warnings to take it easy. He runs and throws himself into his father’s arms.

“Oh, God, Tony. I thought I’d never see you again,” his father chokes out.

His hands are rough in Tony’s hair, and then he’s pushing Tony away, his hands roaming across his body, checking to make sure every part of him is there.

“Your mother and Jarvis have been told, and they’re waiting at home.”

Tony is pulled into another tight hug before slowly led towards a military plane. His dad doesn’t let go of him the whole way, and when the medical examiner comes aboard to check Tony over, Tony shakes his head.

“Dad, he… you need to see something that the doctor can’t see.”

Howard immediately sends the doctor away, and Tony explains in hushed tones what had happened. His father, predictably, looks horrified, but he pulls himself together, likely for Tony’s sake.

“Don’t worry, Tony. We’ll do what we can to fix you.”

Tony trusts his dad. If anyone can help him get the reactor out of his chest, it will be Howard.

 

From there, it’s a flurry of movement. Tony grants the doctor access to every injury _except_ his chest. His father stands by his side the entire time, and Rhodey spends a lot of time organising Tony’s return with Stark Industries Public Relations manager, Pepper Potts. She’s trying to wrangle the information that the reporters are getting, drawing them off the scent of their actual landing place.

However, it’s proving harder than it should be. Potts is adamant that there is a leak, but no one can figure out who it is. With less than an hour before they return state-side, Potts is at her wit's end trying to give the Starks some privacy.

Tony doesn’t care. He’s in and out of sleep the entire way home, feeling safer than he has in months in the arms of his father and with Rhodey standing close by. No one asks him any questions, and Rhodey and Howard have enough information to go on for now.

Tony isn’t naive, and he knows that eventually he’ll have to sit down and talk about his time with the Ten Rings, but he’s glad he’s being given time. For a start, he’s not sure he can talk about the torture or Yinsen without inducing some kind of panic attack, and furthermore, he doesn’t want anyone to know about the armour.

He’s not sure why, exactly. His father, for one, would be impressed, and the technological possibilities could mean endless protection for Rhodey on his missions with the military. But he doesn’t want to offer it out. He wants to keep it to himself. Selfish or not, Tony will not tell a living soul about the amour.

 

“Tony, we’ve got an audience I’m afraid. The plan is to get you straight into the limo and then off to home. Don’t talk to anyone. Here,” Rhodey hands over an oversized hooded sweatshirt. “Put this on. It’ll hide most of your injuries.”

Tony needs some help putting it on, since one of his arms is in a sling, and it swamps him. He recognises that he’s lost a lot of weight he couldn’t afford to lose, but the shirt makes him look like a tiny child.

“Huh,” Howard says, looking at Tony and ruffling his hair. “You look so tiny, that alone might garner a sympathetic response from the reporters. It might be what we need to stop them from digging into this story too deeply.”

Tony pulls a face, and his father mirrors it.

“Ok, well, most of the reporters.”

The plane touches the ground, and Tony is moved from the gurney to a wheelchair. He’s not happy about it, but he doesn’t fight it. His body is tired and in pain, and he’s not sure he can suffer through the pressure of the press while remaining upright.

Much to his surprise, the press doesn’t start screaming questions. Only a few even bother to take photographs. Most watch as Tony is wheeled down the ramp with sympathetic expressions. Tony must look a real pathetic sight if they’re not hounding him for the dirty details of his experience. Not that he’s complaining, but it does make him feel more self-conscious.

“He’s just a kid,” Tony hears someone whisper. “It’s so easy to forget, but he’s just a child. Lord knows what those terrorists put him through, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

At least Howard was right. They really aren’t interested in getting a scoop on Tony’s ordeal.

“Let’s go see your mother,” Howard says as he lifts Tony into the back seat of the limo. “Jarvis and Ana will be grateful to have another person to fret over. We’ve all missed you terribly.”

Happy, the family driver, smiles at Tony, bright and full of love, and Rhodey climbs in after them. Together, they drive away from the crowd and towards Stark Manor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony might be with his family again, but things aren't perfect.
> 
> Not yet, at least.
> 
> Tony plans to change that.

Chapter Five

 

The limo is greeted at the door by the hordes of Stark Manor staff, and on the top of the stairs waits for Maria and Jarvis. The moment Tony sees them, he’s scrambling to get to them. He’s got the door open before they even come to a complete stop, and he’s throwing himself into his mothers’ arms. She wraps her slender arms around his body and holds him close, sobbing into his hair.

“Oh, bambino,” she whispers. “I missed you so.”

Howard comes up the stairs and joins them both in the embrace. Tony finally feels safe, his parents by his side, his best friend and his beloved butler close by. He’s finally with his family again.

 

Tony isn’t let out of his parent's sights for the month that follows. He’s forced to have an extended sit down with his father to explain in detail what happened to him. There’s no rush, no invasive questions, and whenever Tony feels even slightly overwhelmed, his father gives him time to gather his senses. Patient and loving as ever, Tony struggles through the story with the active support of his father.

“I promise you, son, we will find the people who did this, and they will reap the consequences.”

Tony’s father is more than aware of Tony’s actions as he left the base, so when he looks at his father confused, Howard simple places a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“You said they had you in front of a camera. That means a video was sent to someone.”

“It wasn’t ransom?” Tony asks, shocked.

“No. We never saw it, which means it was sent to someone else. Now, listen to me. We’re not to speak of this with _anyone,_ do you understand? The more people know, the less likely we are to find the culprit. Be wary of everyone, OK?”

Shaken by the news, Tony nods, and his father gives him another tight hug.

“Let’s try to get some sleep, OK?”

It’s common knowledge now that Tony is having problems sleeping. It’s probably evaded no one’s notice that he wakes up screaming barely two hours into sleep. He’s exhausted all the time now, no matter what he tries.

He’s been in therapy since he got home, though he tried to explain to his dad that he didn’t need it.

“Son, there’s no shame in getting help,” his father had said. “Everyone suffers from trauma, and you need to work through it at your own pace. I bet even Captain America would need help every now and then. The Howling Commando’s weren’t just in the fight together, you know. They helped each other through their problems. They talked to each other because it helped.”

After a little more coercion (though his fathers ‘Captain America’ spiel almost always worked anyway), Tony finally relented and went to see someone. The therapist came to the house because his parents wanted to be nearby.

But it did nothing to help. Tony still had nightmares. The therapist suggested sleeping pills, but they didn’t work for long. Tony had two consecutive nights of sleep and was lured into a sense of safety, but then the nightmares came back, and the pills made it impossible to wake up from them. Tony refused to take them after that, and his parents didn’t enforce them. He figures it was equally as traumatic for them to see him like that as it was for him to endure it.

Tony tried to work himself into being too exhausted to dream, but that failed also. Not only were his parents and Jarvis adamant that it wouldn’t work, when he tried, but he also ended up having a night terror in the lab and accidentally cut his arm open in his struggle.

He was banned from the lab for a week, and his mother tearfully begged him not to end his life. Tony couldn’t seem to convince her that it wasn’t his intention at all, but it didn’t matter.

“Maybe,” his father speculates one late night in his office together, “maybe what we need is closure. End this once and for all. When we discover who it was, we can put this horror behind us, and you can finally sleep properly.”

His father’s words a terrible and promise pain on whoever is responsible, and Tony’s heart warms.

His father is a hardass sometimes. He’s controlling and expects more from Tony that he’s able to give sometimes, but he’s doing it for Tony’s own good, that much is obvious. He wants Tony to be the best he can be, and Tony is who he is today because of his father’s driving force.

And when his father isn’t pushing him, he’s hugging him, telling him that he’s impressive, saying how Captain America would consider Tony to be amazing, and he’s destined to do great things, more magnificent than Howard himself. Sometimes the pressure is crushing, but with his parents at his side, Tony knows he can do anything.

“Let’s head to bed. Do you want to sleep in our room tonight?”

His parents have offered this a dozen times over the last month, but Tony has consistently declined. Just because he can’t sleep doesn’t mean they should be suffering the same fate.

“I’m ok, Dad. I’ll sleep in my own bed.”

They walk up the stairs together and then go their separate ways. Tony changes into his pyjamas and climbs under the covers. A second later, Jarvis comes in with a warm glass of milk and sits on the edge of Tony’s bed.

Guilt pools in the pit of his stomach when he notices the heavy bags under Jarvis’s eyes. He’s keeping everyone awake.

“Don’t you dare,” Jarvis scolds, as if reading Tony’s mind. “We’re here for you by choice, and if that means we have a few hours less sleep than normal, then it’s a sacrifice we’re willing to make.”

Tony doesn’t respond, simply takes the offered milk and slides down in the bed when it’s done.

“Sweet dreams, Anthony,” Jarvis whispers as he runs a hand through his hair. “Remember, we love you.”

 

It takes longer than average for Tony to wake up in a fit of panic. Coated in sweat, yet shivering, Tony throws a hand over his mouth to stifle the screams. He waits. One minute. Two. He breathes a sigh of relief when no one comes to get him. Obviously, they’ve managed to sleep through it this time, of which he’s grateful. No one should have to suffer as a result of his own pain.

He sits on the edge of his bed, using the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe away the sweat on his face. He wishes there was a way to end this. He can’t stand the nightmares anymore.

What was it that his father had said? That they need to end it all before he can have peace?

Well, Tony may be a kid, but he built a suit of armour in a crappy cave with little to work from. Here, he’s got endless supplies.

He can put an end to this on his own. All he needs is two things.

An AI assistant and a bad-ass suit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading your comments! I promise I'll reply soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is building a few things, and one of them is suspicions.

_Chapter Six_

Tony is running on coffee and frantic energy, but all he can feel is the motivation to get further into this project. Between the designs for the new, improved suit and the code that he’s a thousand lines deep in, he can’t think of a single reason he’d want to surface.

“Tony?”

Except maybe that.

“Dad. Hi.”

Saving his progress and hiding it from view, Tony pulls towards him an old science fair project.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking to improve the project I did in sixth grade.”

Howard walks into the lab and looks over Tony’s shoulder, eyes roaming over the notes and suggested revisions.

“It looks good,” Howard nods his approval. “I’m guessing you didn’t manage to sleep?”

Tony shakes his head, unable to muster the usual mournfulness he feels at being so utterly exhausted. He’s too wired to try and even pretend he’s disappointed.

“I see that you’re really into this, so I’ll let you off. I’ll have Jarvis bring you something to eat soon, OK? If you need me, I’ll be upstairs.”

Tony nods and accepts his father's hug. The instance his father has left, Tony continues to work on Y.I.N.S.E.N, his AI, and the suit. He’s buzzing with ideas, and he’s barely able to get them down before another one takes its place. He’ll program it to be able to access all the camera’s in the building and their built-in speakers. It’ll be omnipresent. He can program it to recognise people, and search databases for information about them, ready for Tony to access on a whim. He can program it to understand words, rather than typed text. Only, he can make it far more precise than the current, generic AI in all Stark Phone models. He will program it to learn so that after Tony has gone through the initial stages of setting it up, it can make its own progress.

The suit, on the other hand, is posing something of a challenge, mentally. Every time Tony makes a new addition, he has to step back to stave off an episode of panic. His mind can’t seem to _stop_ going back on itself, flashing images of his torture. He’s thankful when Jarvis comes down with a breakfast sandwich a few hours later.

Jarvis didn’t stick around for long. Just long enough to ensure that Tony had started to eat and to ruffle his hair. He left Tony is peace soon after. He immediately brings back the skeleton of his AI and the suit designs.

He’ll likely only have a few hours in the lab before his parents or Jarvis come to drag him out. He’s got to work fast and hard to get this figured out. The sooner he finishes, the sooner he can sleep.

 

~

 

Tony can get in six hours of workshop time before his mother comes down and drags him upstairs. He would typically argue and beg for more time, but the way his mother simply takes his hand and leads him upstairs leaves no room for conversation. He’s sat down at the table, and his father smiles at him fondly.

“You look a little out of sorts there, Tony,” Howard notes. “Need some time to recalibrate?”

Tony nods. His dad understands that it is sometimes difficult to jump from being in the workshop to being around people. His brain needs to catch up with itself before he even attempts a decent conversation.

“Tony, my boy!”

Tony jumps in his seat and turns around to watch Uncle Obie walking towards the table. He seats himself between Tony and an empty chair and accepts a glass of scotch from Jarvis, who he immediately dismisses like he’s some kind of common house pet. For some reason, it sets Tony’s teeth on edge, and he has to work at shaking the feeling away. Obie was brought up with a lack of respect for house staff. It’s not the first time he’s behaved like this. Tony has never liked it, but it’s never elicited an angry reaction before.

He’s just testy cause he hasn’t been sleeping, he reasons.

“I can’t put into words how relieved I was when I heard you were safely recovered,” Obie says, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder and squeezing just of shy of painful. “Any news on who set it up?”

“None,” Howard replies mournfully. “But rest assured we will find out.”

Tony’s tiredness must be really messing with his head because Obie looked both relieved and annoyed at Howard's proclamation.

“And you came back in one piece,” he continues. “But… what is this?”

Before Tony can react, Obie is popping the buttons on his shirt and staring in hungry awe at the miniature arc reactor nestled in Tony’s chest. He reaches out and taps it with a knuckle, which sends Tony into panic mode, and he immediately falls backwards out of the chair to try and get as far away from the invasive hands as possible.

Obie apologises, but he doesn’t look nearly as sorry as he’s trying to sound. Again, Tony is thrown by the strangely suspicious feelings he’s having towards his beloved Uncle, and still, he blames it on the tiredness.

Tony is staring at Obie, and he feels someone put their hands on his back and he’s being helped to his feet.

“Are you OK, Tony?” Howard asks, his hand staying on Tony’s back, making him feel grounded and warm. “I don’t… no one but you can touch it.”

“I’m sorry, Tony. I forget myself for a moment there. I understand,” Obie assures.

Tony glances towards him, confused, and then looks up at his dad. Howard encourages him to go back to the table, helping him button up his shirt and hiding the arc reactor.

“Imagine what this technology will do for Stark Industries. We could revolutionise a new field. Think of the power we can put into weaponry.”

“No.”

Obie looks startled, and there’s a flash of anger in his eyes as he cocks his head to the side.

“What on earth do you mean?” Obie questions.

“I won’t… I refuse to have anything to do with building weapons.”

Now his parents look as stunned as Obie does, but where Obie is growing frustrated, his parents’ faces grimace in sympathy.

“I understand,” Howard says. “If you don’t want to, I won’t force you.”

“Exactly,” Obie agrees, but there’s still something hidden in his face that suggests he thinks otherwise. “You just need to share the information about the miniature reactor.”

“No.”

Obie slams his fist down on the table, and Tony cries out in shock and jumps.

“You won’t even share what knowledge you have for the betterment of your family’s business?”

“No.” Tony stands up and stares deep into Obie’s eyes. “I won’t. Because I don’t want to be feed into the terror and destruction wrought by the very thing our family makes. I know that it’s to protect the American people, but the weapons were in the hands of the terrorists who took me. That’s not what we stand for. And I won’t be a part of it.”

Obie’s eyes burn with fury, but Howard reaches over to put a comforting hand around Tony’s wrist.

“We have to respect Tony’s choice, Obadiah. He’s still young, and he’ll be the future one day. If he doesn’t want that future to be in weapons, then that’s something we can discuss later on. For now, he needs to heal and focus on his studies.”

Tony hears the undertone of ‘we will talk about this in more depth at a later date’ in his Dad’s little speech, and he’s not surprised. His father is incredibly supportive of most of the things Tony does, but refusing to carry on the family business is going to carry consequences like no other. But that’s a way off from now. He has time to prepare his defence.

 

~

 

Later that night, after Obie has left and Howard and Maria have retired to bed, Tony sneaks back into the lab. He’s got limbs of the suit ready, and well the body is in the process of being fabricated, Tony wants to test the flight ability.

He’s also got the base coding down for Y.I.N.S.E.N, and so he can start his search into the Stark network. He wants to discover who the culprit is soon so that he can get on with his life and never look back on this horrific chapter.

While Y.I.N.S.E.N searches and the bulk of his suit is being forged by his robot DUM-E, he dons the boots and gloves and goes to stand in the middle of the room. He pulls out a small device and powers up his gear to 1%, slow and steady. When the power barely lifts him an inch from the ground, he increases the power to 10%.

He’s thrown upwards, slamming into the ceiling and falling to the floor in a groaning heap.

“Crap,” he mutters. “Maybe a little less power.”

Pulling himself up from the ground and brushing off the imaginary dust. Tony’s too filled with adrenaline to feel any pain, and so within seconds, he’s trying again. He starts at 5%, and when he’s hovering above the ground, he ups it to 6% and then 7%.

“Perfect.”

Setting back down on the ground, Tony runs towards DUM-E to assist in forging the rest of the suit. He works on some of the join mechanisms and codes the chips and then checks on Y.I.N.S.E.N’s progress. He really feels like he’s making progress.

When the time comes for his parents to be waking up, he makes sure that everything is easier to hide and pulls out his sixth-grade science fair project. He doesn’t want to be lying to them, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t necessary. His parents can never know what he’s doing. If they found out, they’d stop him, and he needs this.

That evening, Tony goes to dinner with a massive grin on his face.

Y.I.N.S.E.N said his first words, and tonight, Tony would be taking the suit on a test-run around the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, the response from this has been amazing! Your comments and Kudos are really the driving force behind my motivation, so thank you for that!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is in place. Tony is getting ready to kick some ass.

Tony is sent to bed early that night after Jarvis notices the bruise on his arm the size of a baseball from where he was testing out the suit. He blamed on exhaustion induced clumsiness, and it was accepted with ease, even if Jarvis and Maria fussed over him for a little while, checking him over to make sure he didn’t have any more injuries.

Tony just wanted everyone to go to sleep so that he could go straight to the workshop and take the suit out for a real test-drive. He also felt terrible about leaving Y.I.N.S.E.N downstairs on its own, and he can’t wait until he’s installed him everywhere. Then, Y.I.N.S.E.N and Tony will never have to be alone again.

Tony lays in his bed for half an hour before sleep takes him under, kicking and screaming.

He’s thrown against a wall, and in the corner, he can see Yinsen’s body slumped on a pile of rice sacks. He looks broken, and there’s blood streaming down into a steadily growing larger pond of blood beneath him.

Someone gets in Tony’s face and starts screaming, but Tony can’t figure out _what_ they’re screaming. One of them grabs Tony by the front of his shirt and pushes him back into the wall repeatedly, and Tony tries to beg them to stop, but they don’t. After one particularly violent hit, Tony wakes up.

He stares at the ceiling, struggling to hold back the scream that is crawling up his throat. He can’t wake anyone up. He has things to do, and it has to be done in the dead of night. It won’t do anyone any favours if he’s caught.

Once he has his emotions in check, and the shaking has subsided enough for him to stand, Tony heads down into the workshop on silent feet. The moment he’s over the threshold, Y.I.N.S.E.N, who was connected to the workshop yesterday, turns on the lights and uncovers Tony’s greatest creation.

Standing before him is a six-foot-tall suit of armour, painted red and gold. Inside is a complex series of weaponry and a bulk of extra Kevlar to prevent damage to his body and to hide the fact that inside stands a twelve-year-old child.

Tony has no doubt that it’s gonna be heavy as hell, but it’s a necessary precaution. He can’t have people spotting that weakness and exploiting it. Tony steps onto the podium and allows the thing to wrap around him.

The first thing he notices when the helmet closes is that it feels weird to be this tall. He’s two and a half feet further away from the ground than he usually is, but it helps. It makes him _feel_ bigger, and if his plans are going to play out the way he wants them to, then he needs that. He needs to be bigger, stronger and braver than he is.

“You there, Yin?”

Text scrolls across the HUD and Tony grins.

“At your service, Tony,” Y.I.N.S.E.N types. “And might I please request that you take this slowly?”

“Slow, Yin, is not in my vocabulary.”

Tony powers up the repulsor’s and then he’s flying towards the edge of the office where the basement door is. He flies out, and then he’s taking to the skies outside of the mansion. He flies up and up and up until all he can see is the twinkling lights of the city beneath him.

Exhilarated, Tony makes a few loops and then swoops down and back up again. Energy is thrumming through his body, and he can’t keep himself from shouting out in joy.

“This is the best thing ever!” he crows.

Tony dips towards the East River and runs his gauntleted hand along the water. He swoops up again, to the chorus of cheers from drunk party-people on a yacht. He waves and they cheer louder. He flies up, up, up into the clouds and towards the stars.

Something goes wrong very quickly as he gets closer to the atmosphere. He hears a faint crackling sound, and then the hud display starts to go haywire.

“Yin?” Tony chokes out, fearfully.

“there appears to be a build-up of ice on the suit’s exterior,” the shaky display reads.

And suddenly the suit is dropping. Tony freaks out instantly, screaming.

He repeatedly sends all the suits power to the jet thrusters and eventually, they come alive, albeit reluctantly. He has to keep trying until finally, they all stabilise, and the ice recedes. The HUD display stays solid again, and Tony breathes a sigh of relief.

“That was a close one,” he chuckles.

“Too close, Tony,” Y.I.N.S.E.N replies. “Maybe we should work on something to counteract those effects.”

“Probably a good idea,” Tony agrees. “Let’s head home, yeah?”

Tony does a backflip, simply because he can, and then shoots down towards the Stark Mansion. He realises belatedly that maybe he should look into a way to enter the building with a little more subtlety. If it gets out that there’s a suit of armour flying into the Stark Mansion every other night, he’s gonna be in big trouble.

 

~

 

Tony is working on installing Y.I.N.S.E.N in his bedroom when a notification pops up on the tablet he’s working with.

In the background, Tony has had Y.I.N.S.E.N searching for information about the remainder of the Ten Rings. He’s determined to hunt every last one of them down and teach them a lesson about what happens when you mess with a Stark. He’s not sure exactly what that is, but he figures he’ll find out when the time comes.

The notification Y.I.N.S.E.N has sent him shows him a spot on a map with the proclamation that there has been noted Ten Rings activity there. A thrill of fear runs through Tony, but he reads all of the information being sent in and makes a decision.

He’s got to go back and do what he can to put an end to their reign of terror, once and for all.

He’s working out how to fix the icing problem on the suit when the sun starts to make its presence known. Tony hides the armour away and laments how close he was to getting Y.I.N.S.E.N almost unrestricted access to Tony. He heads upstairs to his room, mentally planning his route to Afghanistan and considering all the possible options for what he might need to do to ensure his safety and anonymity.

 

~

 

“I just don’t understand Maria,” Tony overhears Howard saying later that day. “I can’t imagine anyone at SI putting Tony in danger. It would kill me if any of them were responsible, but whoever it was is clever. I can’t find any evidence that anyone had anything to do with it.”

“You’ll find them, Howard. I know you will, and when you do, we’ll be there to help you.”

Tony slinks back to his room, feeling strangely guilty about the whole thing. Logically, he knows he had no way to control the situation. He was taken against his will, tortured without consent, and it was all the direct result of someone else’s actions. However, he still feels like he’s done something wrong. He still feels like his father is sad because of him. He needs to fix that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer all the questions about the size of the suit, here you are.  
> The suit is gonna be pretty much the same as the original. Tony wants to avoid giving away his age, so he's made it bigger than him and used that to give himself extra protection.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

 

 

Tony has packed water and a smoothie into the suit. He can’t afford to have to make a snack break- or any other kinds of breaks - as he heads towards Afghanistan. Assuming everything goes to plan, he’ll be getting back home around the time his parents are waking up.

And if things don’t go to plan, well, that’s a whole can of worms he doesn’t want to open.

Tony powers up the thrusters and heads out into the fresh night air – not that he can feel it through the suit – and heads up towards the stars.

He has a long journey ahead of him, and while he and Y.I.N.S.E.N work out the kinks in the A.I’s systems, ready to be ironed out when he gets back in the lab, he heads back towards the one place he never wanted to be: within the sights of The Ten Rings.

 

~

 

Tony’s boots touch town three and a quarter hours later. He’d grown restless quickly, as he always did on long car journeys, but this was worse because he didn’t have his hands free to work on his tablet. Instead, he conversed with Y.I.N.S.E.N, testing the limits of his moral reasoning, his breadth of knowledge, and his ability to answer questions under pressure. The latter was hard because the only pressure Tony could inflict was a time constraint and imagined repercussions, but Y.I.N.S.E.N excelled.

“You’re a real boy!” Tony had exclaimed, excitedly.

“Indeed, young sir, I am.”

“Don’t call me, _sir,_ call me Tony.”

“Sorry Sir, but this sounds far more formal. I am your AI butler, not your AI best friend.”

“Jarvis is my dad’s butler, and _he’s_ my friend,” Tony argues.

“I’m afraid I simply prefer the term, Sir.”

Tony pulls a face, but this personal preference means that Yin is growing a personality.

Now, Tony is glad to have Yin at his side as he approaches the village in the middle of an Afghani desert. There is a smattering of houses, and he’s landed in between a conflict between some men with guns holding people up against a wall and the families forced to watch from the sidelines.

“That’s probably not the best idea,” Tony shouts out, his voice modulated by the in-built distorter.

The terrorists that didn’t notice him in the first place shout out something in surprise and turn their guns on the suit.

“Here goes nothing,” Tony whispers.

The gunfire is loud, and it makes Tony’s ears ring. Y.I.N.S.E.N dampens the sound, and when they’ve run out of bullets, Tony brings up the target display. Though it scares him to do so, he sends out fourteen miniature missiles, and they instantly find their destiny, killing every member of the group, their bodies dropping.

Tony watches as one kid runs to his father, who turns his back on the wall and opens his arms for the boy to run into.

“Thank you,” the man says. “Thank you.”

Tony gives them a salute and takes off, leaving the bodies for someone else to deal with. He’s not the type to make a mess and go, but he can’t deal with that right now. Just thinking about killing people makes him feel sick.

“Let's go home, Yin.”

 

~

 

Tony has maybe two hours to get home, and he’s feeling pretty confident that everything is going to go exactly as he planned.

Tony blames that confidence for the mess that happened next.

He had been flying over a vast desert in the south of North America when he found himself in the middle of a military training session. Two F-22 Raptors were doing a series of manoeuvres when suddenly, he’s being shot at.

“Missile Inbound,” Yin oh-so-helpfully supplies.

“Yeah, I got that. Release the flares.”

A series of small flares are released from the hips of the suit, and the explosion throws Tony forward and causes him to lose control of the suit momentarily. Panic grips at him, but he forces himself to remain calm.

“Call Rhodey,” Tony orders, knowing there’s only one way out of this.

Rhodes picks up within a second.

“Tones, man, I can’t talk—”

“Rhodey, I’ve… done a thing and you need to call off the hounds.”

“Call off the hounds? Tony, what? Look, we’ve got a situation, OK, and I’ll call you back.”

The call is cut off, and Tony curses loudly. He flips over and ducks beneath the clouds, trying to get some cover. The jets start to shoot at him again, and he’s clipped several times.

“Flaps! Flaps!”

Y.I.N.S.E.N opens up the flaps on the suit, and the suit slows down fast enough that the jets fly straight passed him.

“Call Rhodes again!”

Tony latches onto the bottom of the nearest jet.

“Tony, come on kid, what did I—”

“Rhodey, it’s mine.”

“What—”

“It’s mine. The thing the F-22’s are shooting at. Call them off!”

There’s a beat of silence, though Tony can hear mission control behind him, with his a hub-bub of noise.

“You sent an aerial threat into an active training zone,” Rhodes hisses. “Give me one good reason that I _shouldn’t_ shoot it out of the sky.”

“It’s me!” Tony shouts. “It’s a suit. I’m in it! Call them off!”

The jet turns out its side and Tony can hear the exclamation from one of the pilots.

The plane suddenly begins to spin, and Tony is thrown off, and he hits the wing of one of the jets.

“Dammit, Tony!” Rhodey whispers.

The jet with the damaged wing goes down, and the pilot ejects. Tony watches with mounting horror as the parachute doesn’t appear, and there’s a silence on the other side of the phone that tells Tony they all feel the same way.

He shoots down, flying directly towards the falling pilot, and forces the parachute to come out. There’s a deafening cheer, and Tony’s heart rate calms a little, up until Rhodey speaks again.

“We’re going to talk about this.”

He hangs up, and Tony grimaces.

“Yin, how long until we’re home?”

“Two hours, sir.”

“And how long until the ‘rents wake up?”

“One and a half, if their usual pattern is to be trusted.”

“Crap.”

“Indeed.”

 

~

 

Tony gets in and has the suit off just before Howard comes into the lab. Tony smiles, as innocent as he can be, and Howard seems to be none the wiser of his activities.

“How long have you been down here?” he asks, picking up Tony’s blueprints for Y.I.N.S.E.N. “What’s this?”

Tony grins wide.

“Not that long, dad, I swear. But… Yin?”

“Yes, sir?”

Howard startles slightly before his eyes widen in wonder.

“Tony, did you create an A.I?”

“He did indeed. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.”

“And you to… Yin?”

“Yinsen.”

“As in…?”

“Yeah,” Tony replies, awkwardly. “Alternatively, it stands for ‘Your intelligent new sentient energetic… nerd’.”

“You will never be in charge of naming products, Tony,” his dad says with a smile. “But wow. This is… something else. Even without proper sleep, that mind of yours is doing amazing things.”

Brimming with adrenaline from the fight and flight, and pride from his father's compliments, Tony practically skips upstairs to eat breakfast with his parents.

His stays out of the workshop for a while, preferring to hang out with his mother and read. The day seems to be going well, right up until Rhodes shows up.

“Tony, can I talk to you? In private?”

Oh _crap._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony learns about Obie.

Chapter Nine

 

Tony drags his feet towards his bedroom even as Rhodey marches up there, his face unreadable. Tony is trying not to look as scared as he feels, but he’s sure he’s about to be shouted at, and he _hates_ being yelled at.

When they get to the door, Rhodey stands to the side and watches as Tony walks in, clearly anticipating that Tony may try to run, which is a desire he’s feeling very strongly. When he’s in the room, he sits on the edge of the bed and focuses his attention on his fingers, which are intertwining on his lap.

Rhodey doesn’t sit down beside him and instead stays standing in front of him. Had Tony known he’d planned to remain standing, he wouldn’t have sat down.

“Tony,” Rhodey starts with a sigh. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe just avoid starting at all?” Tony suggests, hopefully.

“What were you thinking? Tony, not only was this _incredibly_ dangerous, which isn’t unusual for you, but it was moronic, which isn’t your normal behaviour. What got into your head? Why were you in the suit, what were you doing out of bed at that time, and more importantly, where had you been?”

Tony doesn’t speak for a long time, and Rhodey finally settles down next to him. The bed dips, and Tony tumbled into Rhodey a little. Rhodey puts his arm around Tony’s shoulders and squeezes.

“Is it something to do with Afghanistan?” Horror flits across his face. “Crap, Tones, were you _in_ Afghanistan?”

“Please don’t tell my dad.”

 

~

 

Tony explains everything to Rhodey, and Rhodey remains impassive throughout. It makes it simultaneously more comfortable to say and harder to understand what the outcome will be. It makes Tony antsy. When he finally gets to the end, he expects to be shouted at, but Rhodes pulls him in for a hug.

“Tony, you idiot,” Rhodey says fondly. “I’m glad you’re being proactive about solving your sleep problem, but this was _dangerous._ ”

Tony chews on his lip for a minute, before squishing himself further into Rhodey.

“It’s cool, though, right?”

A beat of silence, and then:

“It was super cool. What is it?”

“Yin, bring up the suit.”

Rhodey jumps a foot in the air when Y.I.N.S.E.N replies, and Tony cackles joyfully.

“Yin is my A.I,” Tony says proudly. “Yin, meet Rhodes.”

“Good Morning, Colonel. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You can call him Honey-Bear if you want, Yin. He doesn’t mind.”

“I will refer to him as Colonel Rhodes, as his appointment in the military deserves him.”

“At lease your A.I has manners,” Rhodes jokes, ruffling Tony’s hair.

A life-size projection of the suit appears on the floor in front of them, and Rhodey stands up to analyse it. He walks around the suit several times, poking at parts, which Yin then gives him information about helpfully. Rhodey whistles his admiration.

“Tones, this is… this is something else.”

“Right? It didn’t even take me that long.”

Rhodey gives him a strange look.

“This isn’t your first suit?” he guesses, smart as ever.

“No. The first is what I built to escape the cave in Afghanistan.”

Rhodey’s eyes widen comically, and he moves to sit back next to Tony.

“You can’t go back out in that, Tones.”

Tony gapes. He hadn’t expected that at all.

“Come on, Rhodey, imagine the good I can do in it. I can save _lives_. I can keep people safe! You can’t honestly expect me to sit back and let it happen when I can be the one who stops it from happening.”

Rhodey sighs.

“I know you want to do good, and that’s an admirable trait, it really is, but you’re a _kid._ You don’t need to carry that weight around with you. When you’re older, maybe, but this is not OK. You could get hurt.”

“And so what if I do? Getting hurt to save another person from the same fate… it’s the right thing to do. If I can do it, I will.”

“I’ll tell your father if I hear about this suit again.”

Tony flounders, panicking. His father would ground him so hard for this, but just as Tony is about to argue, Y.I.N.S.E.N interrupts.

“Sir, I have found some evidence that pertains to your kidnapping.”  
Tony and Rhodey freeze and turn towards the projection. It’s a video still of four men surrounding a boy in a chair. There’s a bag on the kids head, but there’s no doubt in Tony’s mind that it’s him. His body is battered and bruised with blood coating his arms and a car battery held tightly in his chest.

“Play it,” Tony demands.

And Y.I.N.S.E.N does, with translations at the bottom.

Rhodey and Tony watch with rapt attention as the terrorists demand money for the ‘golden goose’. Tony doesn’t understand until it becomes clear that it had initially been an assassination attempt. The only reason they hadn’t killed him is that they knew who he was.

“We’ll kill him when we have three times the original offer, Stane.”

Tony’s breath catches in his throat, and his hand flies up to Rhodey arm. Rhodey is shaking, his face contorted with anger. Tony doesn’t know what to do. Stane. _Stane_ was behind it all. And he’s out there right now, with his dirty fingers in Stark Industries.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll tell your parents. Stay here.”

And with that, Rhodey jumps up and leaves Tony to stare at his battered body in the video, courtesy of his godfather. Is this how Harry Potter felt when he first heard about Sirius Black? That’s… this is insane.

And Tony won’t just sit back and let it happen. He rushes downstairs, shouting for his parents, but they’re no there. He tries for Jarvis or Ana, but no one replies. The house is entirely empty.

_Where is everyone?_

“Tony, my dear boy.”

Tony freezes and turns to find Obadiah stood in the middle of the living room. Tony, shaking, turns and runs as fast as he can to the workshop. He can lock it down and call for the police and –

Tony stumbles when a book hits him square in the back. He lands awkwardly on his shoulder and turns just in time to find Obie looming over him. He kicks out, hitting him in the shin. Tony then scrambles up and tries to run again, but he’s grabbed by his bad shoulder. He barely feels any pain, the adrenaline coursing through him masking the agony he’s sure to suffer through later on.

Obie brings something to Tony’s ear, and suddenly, his entire body goes stiff. There’s a searing pain running through his body as he topples back to the floor. Obie grins viciously and reaches down.

“I’ve been trying to rebuild that armour you built to aid your escape, but there’s always been a missing ingredient,” he says happily. “But fortunately for me, you’ve got it right here, in your chest.”

And then he brings out a metal instrument and _plucks_ the arc reactor out. Instantly, Tony can feel the little pieces of metal in his veins struggling towards his heart. Obie smiles down at him sadly. He places an oversized hand on Tony’s cheek.

“I’m sorry it had to happen like this, but at least you went out with a bang. One final golden egg for your godfather. Thank you, son.”

Tony wants to scream, cry, beg Obie to stop, but he can’t move. He can barely breathe. Obie straightens up and then just leaves. Leaves with Tony’s heart and trust. He doesn’t even look back at Tony who is laying on the ground motionless.

The door slams and Tony is left alone to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE NEW JONAS BROTHERS ALBUM IS OUT AND I'M IN LOVE WITH IT.  
> It's just amazing. Highly recommend. 
> 
> Hope you have a lovely weekend!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter couldn’t wait. I wrote it on the subway. If there are mistakes, let me know.

Chapter Ten

Tony only realises he can move again when a sob is thrown out of his mouth with a gasp. He flexes his fingers. His body is still stiff, but he’s got some movement back. He reaches out a hand and pulls his body against the floor, ignoring the carpet burns he can feel flaring up across his body.  
“Sir?” Yin calls out.  
Tony can’t reply, he has to keep all of his attention on getting to his workshop. He doesn’t have another Arc Reactor handy, but even with his limits movements he can make something to tide him over for the time being. He has to. If he doesn’t, he’ll die.  
It takes forever, the stiffness making way for the dying embers energy. He’s losing steam, but he makes it into the workshop.  
He pulls a car battery from the top of the workshop desk and an electromagnetic prototype. It’s barely functioning, but he just needs to slow the process.  
He’s almost attached it to the hole in his chest when he loses the battle with his body and his eyes slip shut almost peacefully.

~

Tony comes to with the sensation of a metal claw nudging him. He gasps loudly and sits up, DUM-E immediately putting his claw against Tony’s back and helping him sit up.  
He looks down and finds the faux-arc reactor running. The weight of the battery beside his hand vastly outweighs the actual mass of the thing, but Tony can’t focus on that now: he has to stop Obie and he has to do it now.  
Tony hops up and stumbles towards the suit that Y.I.N.S.E.N has pulled out of its hiding place. It forms around Tony’s body, and he’s able to hang the damned car battery on his back, like grotesque back pack.  
The suit powers up immediately, but there is a noticeable lack of power behind it. The car battery doesn’t have enough juice to power suit and the reactor, but Tony doesn’t have a choice. He’s stuck with what he has, but he’s nothing if not resourceful.  
“Find Obadiah,” Tony orders.  
It takes Yin less than a second, and then Tony is off, flying towards the bastard that he once thought of as family.

~

“You’ll regret what you did, Obie,” Tony shouts.  
The hulking suit turns clunkily to face Tony, and the faceplate slides up, revealing Obie’s snarling face. Tony’s heart clenches, and it has nothing to do with the missing reactor.  
“Why?” Tony asks, his voice breaking. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?”  
“You were more valuable dead than alive.”  
Tony shoots a repulsor blast at the crass version of his original suit, and Obie stumbles with the impact. Tony shoots again, but this shot doesn’t impact the way it’s supposed to. Obie jumps up and takes to the air, and Tony follows behind him, doing everything he can to incapacitate the suit without killing Obadiah.  
Obie touches down on a highway, and lifts a minivan into the air.  
The sound of screams has Tony rushing forward and wrestling it from Obie’s iron grip. The people in the car, a woman and three children, don’t stop screaming, and Tony wishes he could calm them down cause they’re freaking him out. Obie relents, and Tony sets the car down, and it immediately runs his over. It hurts, but not as much as when Obie’s boot comes down on Tony’s chest and stomps hard. He can hear the battery behind him crush, and the power it offers the suit depletes further.  
Tony pushes Obie away and then flies up, as high as he can, beyond the clouds and towards the stars. Obie is behind him screaming obscenities and promising Tony a world of pain.  
When they’re high enough, Tony hovers in the air and turns to Obie.  
“Hey, how’d you solve the icing problem?”  
The faceplate is down, but Tony can imagine the look of furious confusion on his face. What Tony can see is frost creeping up the silver suit and hardening. The reactor in Obie’s suit flickers and the entire thing starts to plummet to the ground.  
Tony follows after, reaching out for Obie’s hand. If he hits to ground from this height, he’ll surely die and Tony can’t let that happen. He has to save him, even if it is just for prison.  
He manages to slow the suit somewhat but Obie is struggling against it. They reach the ground and Obie’s suit hits it with a crunch. Motionless, Tony panics, thinking it’s a sure sign Obie is dead. He rips the face plate off, but Obie reaches up and grab Tony’s wrist.  
“This isn’t the end, boy,” he sneers.  
Tony wrenches his arm away and pulls the arc reactor out of the suit and hastily swaps it with his own. Obie’s suit is rendered useless, and he won’t be able to move without it. The suit it too heavy, and Obie simply isn’t that strong.  
Tony turns away, discarding the remains of the battery and he crushes the substitute reactor under his boot.  
He’s walking away when he hears a gunshot. He feels no impact, but when he turns around he finds Obie half out of the suit with a gun his hand and a hole in his forehead. Tony takes a step towards him when a movement to the side startles him.  
“Don’t move.”  
A man with sunglasses, a suit and a gun aimed at Tony’s suit takes a few long strides until he’s in Tony’s face.  
“Who are you?”  
Tony shoots into the sky, leaving the strange man and Obie’s body on the ground.  
He’s not sure what he can do now, other than head home.

~

Tony falls out of the suit when he gets to the workshop, the aches and pains catching up with him instantly. Yin hides the armour away immediately, which is good because a second later, Howard, Jarvis and Rhodey come rushing in. Tony tries to stand up, but the pain is crushing, and he can barely even push himself to his feet.  
Howard is at his side a second later, worried hands dancing over Tony’s body, searching for damage.  
“Tony— Obie, he—“  
“I know,” Tony whimpers. “He took the reactor… a man in a suit brought it back to me.”  
Rhodey looks unimpressed by the lie, but Tony won’t feel bad. He can’t.  
“A man in a suit?” Jarvis asks, helping to bring Tony to his feet.   
“Yeah,” Tony continues his lie with ease, though it’s painful to talk. “A metal one.”  
Howard is about to ask another question, but Tony stumbles and his consciousness wanes.  
“Call an ambulance now!”  
And then Tony collapses into darkness.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

 

The first thing Tony feels isn’t pain. Later, when his mind is cognizant enough, he’ll wonder why that is, but in the moments of waking, he feels warmth. There’s a comforting pressure on his hands, which lay either side of him, and they’re warm.

“He’s waking up,” someone whispers.

Tony stirs under the voice, and it’s then that he feels the beginnings of pain.

“Dad?” he manages to groan.

The lights sting at his eyes, but he forces himself to be properly awake. His mind is muddled, images of unexplainable things come to his mind, but when the fog lifts, Tony lurches forward. His father quickly puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder and pushes him back into the pillows.

“Obadiah.”

Howard stiffens, and Maria’s hand tightens on Tony’s. Tony’s free hand comes up and covers the arc reactor, the fear of it being stolen from him, making him hunch into himself.

“Tony, I’m so sorry for what he did,” Howard says. “If I had had any idea, he would never have gotten as far as he did. I can’t… I can’t believe he would do that to us.”

Tony doesn’t know what to say, and he’s too cowardly to ask if Obie died.

Obie, the man who sat and watched on proudly as Tony made his first circuit board at four. Obie, his godfather, who helped him study the components of a car engine and bought him his first car so that Tony could tinker with it when he was six. His beloved Uncle, who called Tony ‘my boy’ and stood by Tony whenever his father was out looking for the elusive Captain America. He was family, and he’d thrown it all away in a fit of greed.

The same man who was his fathers’ best friend for years.

“He’s gone now,” Maria assures. “He can’t hurt our family anymore.”

Tony’s hand drops from his chest and reaches out for his father.

“I’m sorry.”

Howard smiles sadly and shakes his head.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Tony. Promise me you’ll remember that?”

Tony doesn’t know how to do that. He’s not sure he’s completely free of fault here, but he can see that his father has no intention of accepting that. He’ll just stew on it for a while, figure out why it is his fault, and then explain that to his father. He was taught long ago that someone has to take responsibility, and this time it seems like it’s on Tony.

“Colonel Rhodes will be around to visit tomorrow,” Maria says, running her fingers through Tony’s hair. “He was very worried about you, but he had some stuff to deal with.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Well, you know how you said a man in a metal suit brought you back the reactor?”

Tony nods.

“Well,” Howard continues, “it turns out the same man fought with Obadiah. From the sounds of it, he did everything he could to save him, but he tried to shoot the man from behind, and someone named Coulson ended up having to shoot. No one is sure who the man is, but Rhodes says the military has seen him before.”

Tony nods again, finding it strange to hear his own story retold with such interest. It was a painful fight for many reasons, and despite the grief, his father must be feeling, he sounds almost impressed. Tony wonders if his dad would be even more impressed if he learnt that his son was the one who built and operated the thing.

“While it’s an amazing feat, I don’t want to hear anything about you doing anything like that until you’re at least in your twenties,” Maria says, giving Howard a stern look. “Ok, Anthony?”

Tony knows that when his mother uses that voice, she's very serious, so Tony avoids responding. He doesn’t want to lie, exactly, so it’s best to just not reply really.

“You said Rhodey is coming to visit tomorrow? How long do they expect me to stay here, exactly?”

“You’ll be here until they discharge you, and not a moment sooner,” his mother responds.

“But, Mama,” he whines. “I don’t want to.”

“Regardless, the doctors would like to observe you. You were quite beat up, and you’ve got to get your strength back.”

Tony frowns, hoping his sad face will sway his parents, but his dad catches on instantly and ruffles his hair.

“Until they discharge you,” his father repeats.

“And not a moment sooner, yeah yeah, I get it.”

 

~

 

Tony is miserable during his stay in the hospital. He hates the smell and the frigid sheets and the way everything is white. The nurses are kind, but they treat him like a child, and the doctors are kinda rude and dismissive. There’s a genuine chance that it’s because Tony steadfastly refuses to admit he’s in pain. They keep lowering his pain meds, and even when the pain has him gritting his teeth, he still pretends he’s okay.

“Tony, if you’re in pain, the doctors can help. That’s what they’re here for,” Maria had told him.

But the pain wasn’t from anything that the doctors could figure out. The pain, Tony knew, was from the arc reactor, and if he told _them_ that, they’d insist on taking it out and inspecting it, and he would not let another person touch it for the rest of the time he’s forced to live with it in his chest.

The only good thing about anything recently is that Tony has _finally_ been able to fall asleep. He’s probably slept more in the last week than he has in the previous three months in total. It’s been a goddamn blessing, and his parents and Jarvis were so happy that he was finally sleeping that they’d decided to take some rather embarrassing pictures of him while his mouth was hanging open and his hair was ruffled.

“You’re being released early,” Howard says one morning. “I’ve got a personal doctor to move in for a few days, and you’ll be treated from home.”

His father is distracted, Tony notes with interest. Usually, when his father is talking to Tony, he focuses solely on Tony. The only reason he wouldn’t is if it’s something _big._

“Dad?”

“I… son, I’ve found him.”

Tony’s head tilts in confusion.

“Found who?”

Howard grins, wide and proud.

“Steve Rogers. I’ve found Captain America.”


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

 

Tony’s father is too busy for the next three days to answer any of Tony’s many, many questions. Maria is anxious, fretting over Tony and trying to help Howard with his requests. For Tony, it’s been mostly dull. He wants to find out what’s going on, be in the thick of the conversation, but his doctor is refusing to let him out of bed, and Rhodey isn’t sharing any information that he knows either.

As far as Tony is aware, Howard’s research for the past three decades has finally come to fruition.  He’s excited for him, obviously. Howard’s own father had actually known Captain America, and so Howard was brought up on the stories was forced to try and live up to this war hero. The standards were impossible, and Tony had been told for years that the only person he has to outdo is himself.

Which, oddly, is what he’s been trying to do since his Mom went to sleep.

Howard had been gone for the week, and Tony was getting no answers, so he wanted to take the matter into his own hands. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he decided to hack into his father’s phone in the hopes that he could figure out where he was and what the man was doing.

The problem is that his father, despite what he may say about Tony, is still the smarter of the two, and in all respects, Tony is still a protégé, an apprentice to the craft. He’s got to be better than himself and better than his old man. But fortunately, Tony has Y.I.N.S.E.N, and regardless of the apparent disapproval, he’s there to assist.

All in all, it takes barely a day to track his father, and when he gets a location, Tony isn’t sure that it’s accurate. It says that he’s scarcely twenty blocks away, in an old warehouse that Tony always wrote off as being abandoned. But if his Dad is there, then it stands to reason that Captain America is there too.

Tony listens carefully to the house around him and finds that everyone is asleep. This is the perfect opportunity for him to get a good look at what’s going on. His dad will probably be angry, but that’s only if he gets caught, and Tony is good at creeping around, a fact that Jarvis can attest to. Tony spent the first few years of his life ‘trying to find trouble’ as Jarvis put it, though Tony would argue that he was just looking for something to occupy him.

He sits up and then folds like a deck chair at the pain in his chest. He pulls the collar of his shirt out and stares down at his chest, which is slowly becoming more and more discoloured around the reactor. It looks like tiny snakes have burrowed into his chest and are trying to reach his brain.

Tony pushes his tongue against the back of his front teeth and forces any tears back. He can’t cry about it. He has to find a cure, and in the meantime, he has to keep it hidden. His parents can’t know. He’s caused them too many problems.

“Sir, might I just voice my disapproval of this particular endeavour?” Y.I.N.S.E.N pipes up as Tony makes his way into his workshop.

“You could,” Tony says with a shrug, “but it won’t stop me.”

“I feared as much.”

Tony steps into the waiting suit and revels in how great it feels, aches and pains aside. He knows it _was_ made just for him, but it’s amazing how perfectly it fits. It’s almost like a second skin, accept it makes him look like he’s two feet taller than he actually is, and makes him look like he’s more than just weedy limbs and lank hair.

“Let’s go see what secrets Dad is keeping,” Tony mutters, firing up the repulsors and heading into the night.

 

~

 

The secret, it turns out, was that the building Howard was in was actually some kind of top-secret base. Tony couldn’t find a way in from the floor, and the security was thicker than peanut butter, so he was forced to try and find an entrance on the roof.

Unfortunately, it was on the roof that Tony found trouble in the form on an archer and a red-haired agent.

 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, Tony wasn’t in the suit when he was discovered. He’d landed on the roof and begun searching for an entrance when the pain had struck. He felt like he’d been slammed in the chest with it, and he found himself unable to breathe and begging Y.I.N.S.E.N to let him out.

He fell to the ground, gasping, clutching his chest, one hand covering the reactor and the other braced against the ground. The pain was so bad that he almost started screaming, but at the last second, before he gave himself away, the pain receded, and he collapsed forward.

“Sir,” Y.I.N.S.E.N was calling. “Sir, are you well?”

Tony murmurs his response into the gravel.

“Sir, should I contact emergency services?”

Tony pushes himself up and then freezes when he hears a door opening. He desperately looks to the suit, but it’s too far for him to get to it before he’s discovered.

“Yin, go!” he hisses.

The suit closes up instantly and takes to the sky.

“Is that… hey! Come back!”

Tony turns to the source of the voice and watches as two people come around a large ventilation box.

“What was he doing here?” the blonde man asks.

“Better question,” the red-head asks. “Why is there a child on our roof.”

Tony cringes as their eyes fall on him, and he jumps to his feet.

“Who are you?” Tony asks, feeling brave.

The two people stare at him, and Tony uses their confusion as the time to give them a once over. The red-headed lady is wearing a tight-fitting blue suit, whereas the man is wearing a two-piece suit of similar fabric.

Maybe the most remarkable thing is that the woman carries a single gun, but the man is carrying a bow and arrow.

“What are you, a robin hood cosplayer?” Tony snorts.

The man raises a single eyebrow, and the woman’s face remains expressionless.

“You’re Anthony Stark,” the woman says.

“Uh…”

“Oh man, Howard is gonna have a fit. Didn’t he say his kid was supposed to be on bed rest?” The blonde man shakes his head, though there’s a faint smile lighting up his features. “Kid, you’re so grounded.”


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

 

Tony gulps down confidence and then straightens his shoulders. He’s seen his father do it a lot, where he makes himself look bigger around people that are talking down to him. It seems to work most of the time, though that could be because Howard is almost always the smartest man in the room and people get intimidated by that pretty quickly.

“Maybe we keep this between us?” he suggests with a calm shrug that conveys precisely none of the panic he feels. “I can give you money or something?”

The blonde-haired man bursts out in a fit of laughter and shakes his head.

“Kid, you’re _just_ like your dad. That’s hilarious. If you weren’t about to be locked in your room for breaking into a SHIELD facility, I’d say we could be friends.”

“SHIELD?”

The redhead sighs.

“Let’s do introductions, and then we can take you to your father. I’m Agent Hill, and this idiot who can’t keep his mouth shut is Agent Barton. This is a _super secret_ SHIELD facility, and you shouldn’t know it exists, let alone manage to make it on the roof. Did the suit bring you?”

Tony searches the area around him for an answer, but there isn’t one.

“No.”

“Then, how did you get here?”

Tony shrugs.

“Are you saying you don’t know?”

Tony shrugs again.

Agent Hill pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs heavily.

“Kids,” she says under her breath, before adding aloud, “come with us, and we’ll go speak with your father.”

This is not how Tony had planned this to go. He had expected more of himself. Despite an absolute lack of experience in this particular area, he’d hoped that he had a natural affinity for stealth.

Agent Hill beckons Tony forward, and with reluctant movements, Tony follows them into the building. The outside, which was grey and dirty and dreary, had led Tony to have a fair assumption that the inside would be similar.

He was wrong.

Dead wrong.

The first thing that hit him was the smell of _clean_. The floors were marble, and the walls were large white tiles lined up like soldiers. The lights ahead were bright, and they were a shock from the darkness outside, and they left him blinded. He stumbled into Agent Barton, who chuckled and steadied him as they walked deeper and deeper into the building. Tony is led into an elevator, and they drop down several levels.

When they step out, it’s more of the same, except now there are boxes of windows scattered along the hallway. Most of them seem to be empty meeting rooms, but one catches his eye, and he stops walking, even when the Agents plough on ahead, oblivious.

Through the window, he can see Aunt Peggy in a wheelchair next to another man that Tony didn’t know by name but knew that he had something to do with politics. Howard wants Tony to get to know the local politicians better, but to Tony, all they ever do is talk, and most of the time, it doesn’t make any sense to him.

Tony carefully opens the door, curious to see what is in the big containment box they’re all staring at. Neither of the occupants notices him, and neither do the Agents. Obviously, everyone is very preoccupied, but is that an excuse for them to let a twelve-year-old go running around their ‘super-secret base’?

Tony is doubtful, but his curiosity is stronger than his want to chastise them.

He creeps forward, carefully watching Peggy and the politician talking to themselves at the other end of the room. Tony ducks behind the block, and inside he can hear… a baseball game? Are there people slacking off in there, watching… wait. Tony listens harder. That’s an _old_ game.

Tony, unable to restrain himself, gently eases the door open and steps inside.

What he finds draws breath from his lungs and has him plastered against the door in a panic.

_Captain America._

Holy crap, he’s _real,_ and Tony is stood in the same room as him.

Tony looks around, and he feels a prickling of discomfort. The room they’re in is strange. There seems to be old-timey stuff everywhere, and it’s highly disconcerting. The baseball game is playing from an antique radio, and the décor looks like it’s from the forties.

Tony can’t help but suspect that the good Captain hasn’t woken up yet, and they’re planning some kind of trick. He can’t figure out _why_ , though it might be just to keep him calm. It still feels very wrong, though, and Tony isn’t sure he wants to be there when it happens.

“Anthony Stark, what on _earth_ do you think you’re doing?”

Tony spins around to find himself facing the angry form of his Aunt Peggy. He steps back, trips over his foot and goes crashing to the ground.

“Peggy?” a voice croaks.

“Oh, _Steve._ ”

Tony looks between the two people and then gulps when he sees his father storming towards the room.

“Anthony Stark, you are in _so much trouble._ ”

“Stark?”

Tony’s curiosity is too great for him to not turn and stare at the hero. Steve Rogers is pushing himself upright, staring incredulously at Aunt Peggy, Tony and then Howard.

“Howard Stark?”

“Junior,” Howard adds on, “but the resemblance is uncanny. Most people assume my father played around with cloning.”

“Junior?” Steve repeats, looking terrified. “But… weren’t you just born? This… Peggy, you look, well, _beautiful,_ obviously, but…”

“You can say it, Steve,” she says sadly. “I’m old.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. He just looked shell-shocked.

“I’m sorry it’s happening this way. We had planned to let you down gently, but my son is a bit of a troublemaker.”

Steve, despite being stunned, smiles at Tony in a way that suggests he doesn’t blame him. Tony doesn’t even notice when Howard lifts him back to his feet, and his eyes never leave Steve’s face as he’s being dragged away and back into the corridor.

“Tony, what were you thinking?” Howard asks once they’re out of earshot. “You’re _hurt._ Are you OK? Did you make yourself sicker?”

Howard’s hand starts to run over Tony, and before Tony has the sense to push him away, Howard has lifted his shirt and frozen as he stares at the web of black radiating from the arc reactor. Tony winces, as his father’s face turns from frustration to horror.

“Tony, what is happening?”

Tony can’t lie to him, not when he’s looking at Tony with such honest pain.

“I’m dying,” Tony whispers. “And I don’t know how to stop it.”

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Howard paled immediately and Tony instantly regretted what he said. He had been planning on keeping that to himself, but some part of him must have wanted to tell his father or else he never would have said anything.

“Tony,” his father whispers. “We’ll find a way to fix it. I promise.”

Tony wants to put faith in that promise, but that feels like a heavy burden to place upon his fathers shoulders and he just can’t justify doing that. There may be a time when his parents have to live in without him, and maybe now is the time to prepare Howard for that.

“Dad,” Tony says with urgency, “if you can’t, that’s OK.”

But it’s not, is it? Tony asks himself. It’s not, because you’ve been ignoring the entire thing. You’ve practically pretended it wasn’t happening. You’ve only just uttered those words aloud, and you’ve hardly even mentally considered the possibility.

“I’m going to die,” Tony mutters. “Oh.”

He doesn’t mean for it to happen, but tears spring to his eyes and he gulps in a lungful of air only to choke on a sob.

Howard doesn’t pause. He pulls Tony into a hug and holds him until the sobs die down.

“How long have you known?” Howard asks gently.

Tony frowns and tries to work out how many days.

“About a week and a half?”

“And you’re only just telling me now?” Howard wipes exasperation off his face. “Ok. I’m not angry… just worried.”

Tony nods, but he has nothing else to say. Fortunately, he’s saved from a painful silence by a commotion outside. It appears that Steve has entered a fit of panic and is trying to run out of the facility.

“Captain Rogers!” Tony shouts. “Stop!”  
The man turns around; heaving breathes and eyes wide with panic. He freezes when he spots Tony and Howard staring at him, and he leans heavily against the wall behind him. Peggy is brought out in her wheelchair, and with him in the politician.

“Pierce,” Howard nods.

“Stark.”

Captain America slides down the wall, hands covering his face. Tony knows he isn’t crying, but the fear is obvious. Tony knows how that feels, to wake up somewhere unfamiliar, scared. He walks slowly towards the man and then sits down in front of him.

No one tries to stop Tony, for which he’s grateful. Maybe they trust him, or maybe they’re worried about how Rogers may react to sudden movements.

“This sucks, huh?” Tony says.

Howard sighs and shakes his head, but Steve doesn’t react. Maybe he doesn’t know what it means.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Rogers doesn’t say anything, but his hands drop to his sides and his tired eyes roll over to Tony’s face. Tony knows that face. Steve isn’t just confused. He’s done with it. He’s done with everything.

“I thought I was going to die.”

“You didn’t.”

“That much I can tell on my own,” Steve huffs.

Tony grins at him.

“Look, how about you speak to Peggy, and she’ll fill you in on everything, and then this weekend you can come for dinner. Right, dad? Captain America can come to dinner right?”

Howard smiles, but shrugs.

“Sure.”

Steve looks bewildered, but after a second, he nods and climbs to his feet.

“Shall we?” Steve says, looking at Peggy.

“Of course.”

 

~

 

Tony is taken home by Howard, who doesn’t speak the entire journey. Admittedly, it’s not very long, and the car seems unnecessary, but it’s still uncomfortable. He knows his dad is worrying now, both about Rogers and Tony himself, and Tony has no words to help. He feels more like a burden than ever before, and it’s going to make every aspect of their lives harder.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says finally, the silence getting too much.

“It’s not your fault. Well, leaving the house unaided and alone in the middle of the night is definitely your fault, and don’t think you’re not grounded for the next month, but the palladium poisoning? That’s not you. And we will do everything in our power to fix it, do you understand?”

Tony nods, but his stomach still squirms as they head upstairs. His dad walks him to his bedroom and leans against the doorframe as Tony climbs back into the bed.

“Tomorrow, we’ll start looking at options, OK? Your mother and I were going to go on vacation next week, but we’ll have to wait until we’ve solved this.”

Guilt slams into him when his dad closes the bedroom door. He hadn’t realised their trip was so close. He’s even managing to ruin their anniversary.

Though, if he’s able to figure out a way to fix the problem before then, his father would have no reason to hold off on their vacation. He just has to work fast, or at least find a way to convince his father that it’s not worth staying for. He’s fairly certain he’s got a few months to survive beyond the palladium poisoning, so a week in the Bahama’s won’t hurt. Besides, his parents deserve the vacation.

 

~

 

Two days later, Tony and Howard are no closer to finding the cure, though they’re working hard at it. They’ve barely left the workshop, spending almost all their time pouring over theories, testing hypotheses and generally giving themselves terrible backache. Every night, they’re coaxed out for food by Jarvis and Maria, and then Tony is wrangled into bed by his mother while Howard is coaxed into having a rest by Jarvis.

“But I don’t _want_ to go to bed, Mama,” Tony says.

“Quit whining, Anthony. You are a growing boy, and growing boys sleep. You’ve got a lot of sleep to make up for, too, so we’re not entering negotiations on this.”

“But—”

“No. How about I read you a story?”

Tony frowns.

“I’m not a baby,” he grumbles.

“You’re _my_ baby,” she argues, “and even though you’re older, you can still have stories read to you.”

With no further objections, Tony settles down under the covers and allows his mother to regale him with stories about her misspent youth, though he know that she’s changing some of the stories, specifically the ones about her and his dad. Howard had already told him to the truth about most of them, not cutting any of it out just because Tony might be too young to understand.

Tony falls asleep somewhere in the story about how Maria found Howard sleeping on a bench in a strip club after he’d lost the ring he wanted to propose to her with.

The next morning, he wakes up to Howard shaking him violently, a manic gleam in his eye.

“I think I’ve found a cure!” he cries as Tony blearily rubs sleep from his eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes! We just need to build a proton accelerator, and we can synthesise a new element.”

Tony jumps out of bed, pushing his tiredness aside.

“We need to—”

“I’ve already ordered the parts. We’ve got a week and a half until everything gets here. Even expedited, that’s the best we can do.”

“So, there’s no reason you shouldn’t go on vacation with Mom. It’s in three days, you can rebook your flights. Jarvis can look after me, and when you get back, we can fix everything up!”

“I’ll think about it.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Tony is bumbling around the house, not really sure if he has any purpose or needs to be doing so. Howard had said that Captain Rogers had confirmed his desire to join them for dinner that evening, and Tony was shocked, to say the least. He hadn’t expected the man to want to leave whatever hole he’d curled into so soon, but Tony suspect this has more to do with Peggy than it does anyone else. Peggy is a force to be reckoned with.

So, Tony is anxious. How should he act around a war hero from the second world war that is closer to his age than his fathers? How do you talk to a man that has spent seventy years as an icicle? Tony has never considered himself a tactful conversationalist, but this is pushing even his limits.

“Anthony, dear, if you don’t stop wondering, then you’re going to burn a trench into the ground,” Maria admonishes with a fond smile. “Come, help Jarvis set up the table.”

Tony doesn’t argue, not even when his mother takes his hand. His father might think that she ‘baby’s’ him too much, but Tony doesn’t secretly hate it. His mother is so busy with her fundraisers and socialising that when she has time to be around him, it’s a really nice change. She always tries to give him extra attention to make up for lost time, so he’s able to easily forgive him.

“Ah, Master Tony, come along,” Jarvis says when Tony appears in the kitchen. “Help me lay the table?”

Tony nods and carries the tray of cutlery out, helping the kitchen staff to lay them down next to the porcelain plates. By the time they’re done, the table looks as fancy as it did whenever Howard had business associates over, though Tony feels like the dinner time conversation is going to be slightly more strained.

Tony knows that his father grew up hating Captain America. He had the man’s ideology shoved down his throat whenever his own father had deemed it necessary. Howard was expected to live up to these grand expectations, expectations that no one could hope to reach. Howard was beaten down by the man’s constant disapproval, and he’s spent his entire life trying to reach those standards while simultaneously rebelling against it.

Howard once told Tony that he will never expect him to be anyone other than himself, because being told that your personal best is never enough made Howard depressed for a long time.

But then Howard found Maria and they had Tony and Howard’s business was in full bloom, and so things got much better for him. However, Tony still worries that his father might hold a bit of a grudge against Captain America. Tony hopes he can help his dad through any awkward conversations.

“How is the meal coming along, Jarvis?” Howard asks, stepping into the dining room.

“Everything is on schedule and ready to be served, Sir.”

“Excellent, excellent.”

Howard is clearly anxious, and Tony doesn’t like seeing him like that. His father is usually the most confident person in the room, head held high, demanding respect, respect that he always gets. His father doesn’t play around when it comes to commanding a room, and every head will turn to him, and every voice will disappear when Howard begins to talk.

Now, he looks like the awkward kid at school who is trying to pep himself for talking to the popular kids.

Tony doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to help there if there even is anything he can do. His dad has always been Tony’s rock, how is he supposed to swap that?

“Um, dad, are you ok?”

Howard’s fingers still from where they’re fiddling with his tie and his eyes snap to Tony.

“No.”

Howard's honesty shows that maybe he’s not as nervous as Tony first suspected. If he indeed had been, then he wouldn’t have wanted to show any weakness in front of Tony. Likely not the healthiest thing ever, but Tony knows that his dad isn’t the only person in the world to do stuff like that.

“Because of Captain America?”

Howard gives Tony a lopsided, self-deprecating smile.

“Kind of, yeah.”

“I’m sure he’ll like you lots, Dad. I think you’re great, so he will too.”

Howard laughs, but it’s cut out sharply when the doorbell rings.

Tony watches from his father's side as Jarvis opens the door and welcomes Steve Rogers, a bonafide American legend, into their house.

Now that he’s not dishevelled with shock and coming out of a seventy-year coma, Tony thinks he looks different. He’s taller, for a start. In the Shield facility, he was hunched over, but how he stands tall. He’s also got blond, side-parted hair that looks straight out of the pre-war era. Matched with the shirt and the trousers, Tony thinks the man looks like he stepped right out of a movie about the ’40s.

“I hope I’m not too early?” Steve says anxiously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure how long it would take to get here.”

“Don’t you worry about that, love,” Maria says, moving to pull him into a hug.

The man looks bewildered, and Tony has to fight the urge to snicker. Maria is totally going to mom Steve Rogers, a war hero.

“Thank you for inviting me into your home, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t thank me, thank my son who crept out of the house at two am to wonder the streets of New York alone, only to end up on the rooftop of a highly-secretive government agency.”

Tony takes the time during her rant to hide behind his father because this isn’t the first time since the event that his mother has not-so-subtle shouted at him for his behaviour.

“I said I was sorry,” Tony whispers.

“Sorry doesn’t ease my worry, Anthony Stark, and you know it.”

Steve graciously ignores the conversation between mother and chastised son, and goes straight towards Howard, hand extended.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t know if Howard Senior mentioned, but we knew each other before… well, the icing.”

“He did, in fact, but I have to admit, he wasn’t particularly positive with it.”

Steve looks confused, and Howard doesn’t waste time forcing him to agonise over the ambiguous words.

“My father wasted no time holding you over my head. He threatened me with you a few times too.”

“Oh.” Steve looks instantly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be,” Howard huffs. “It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I’m older than you now. I used to be terrified of you, but now I’m only mildly intimidated.”

Tony laughs from behind his fathers back, and it seems to be enough to clue Steve into the fact that Howard is joking with him, but Steve can be forgiven for making a mistake. Howard doesn’t show his sarcasm very well.

“Dinner is served,” Jarvis announces.

“Join us, Jarvis,” Howard insists. “Please.”

And thus begins the weirdest dinner party of Tony’s entire life.


	16. Chapter 16

Tony has never experienced a dinner like it. First of all, Jarvis never sits with the family if they have company. He, and his wife Ana, and sometimes the other staff, will join them when it’s a normal day, or if Howard is in a particularly great mood, but this is unheard of.

That was the first sign that the meal was not going to go normally. It was as exciting as it was nerve wracking, because Tony had been trained by his parents to behave a certain way during meals with business partners and diplomats, and he could almost script those times. They rarely changed. This, however, was wild by all standards.

“So, Mr Rogers, how has life been since you, ah, came out of the ice?”

Maria’s question causes Howard to groan, and Tony wants to hide under the table.

“Um, strange,” Steve says with a shrug. “I can’t really put into words how it’s been. I’m not really… I can’t—life isn’t life yet, I guess.”

If Tony had to say anything about the legend, he’d never have said the man would stumble over his words. It’s almost funny how awkward he’s being, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He’s not sure how. He’s just sat there, watching the train wreck happen.

“Where are you living?” Maria breezes on.

“Oh, I’ve been given a, um, a dorm in the Shield facility? They’ve mentioned helping me find an apartment, but things are, well, they’re expensive and it’s been—I don’t know how to find a job.”

Tony can’t help but giggle. Howard sighs at his lack of decorum, but Tony has little to no control over himself.

“Sorry, Mr Rogers, it’s just funny. They’re not expecting you to find a job, are they? Don’t you get back pay from the army?”

Steve doesn’t look angry at the outburst but remains as bemused as he did when he first came through the door.

“Not that I’ve heard of? I know that I need to get a lot of things in order, to, I don’t know, get a life? But I don’t know where to start. Peggy has been a great help, but so far I’ve only just managed to legally come back to life.”

Tony looks at his dad, begging him to fix this. Captain Frigging America is being put on hold and forced to live in a bunk. That’s not right, and Howard should know that.

“Mr Rogers—”

“Please, call me Steve. No one but Peggy is calling me by my real name.”

“Sorry. Steve, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call us,” Howard says. “We’ll do what we can.”

“You could move in here,” Tony suggests.

Both his parents give him sharp looks, and he cringes.

“We have so many spare rooms,” Tony says with a shrug. “I didn’t think it would be a bad idea.”

Steve had brightened at the idea, but seeing Howard and Maria’s reaction shuttered that.

“It’s OK. I’m sure I’ll find a solution soon.”

“But that could take _forever_ ,” Tony says.

Howard sighs again, something that Tony foresees being a staple of the dinner.

“We do have spare rooms, if you’re interested, Steve.”

“I couldn’t intrude.”

“No intrusion, sir,” Jarvis says. “You won’t be any more difficult to handle than Master Tony.”

“I am _not_ difficult to handle!” Tony cries out affronted.

His declaration is met with three identical looks of disbelief and even Steve has the audacity to appear suspicious of the claim.

“Fine. Whatever. But Jarvis loves it.”

“No, I love _you_ , but that doesn’t mean I enjoy finding you asleep in your lab at midnight because you didn’t realise you were tired.”

Steve snickers into his wine, and Tony pouts down at his food.

“That was one time.”

“That’s not true,” Howard intervenes. “Just because you don’t remember falling asleep and happen to wake up in bed does not mean that it didn’t happen.”

At that, Tony does remember a suspicious amount of times that he didn’t remember going to bed the night before. He doesn’t say anything out loud though, because he feels like he’s being ganged up on.

“Whatever,” he grumbles.

“I’ll have one of the maids set up a room for you. We have a rather large suite next to Master Tony’s room. Will that suit you?”

“I… honestly, you don’t have too—”

“Nonsense, Steve,” Maria says sweetly. “You’re moving in, and that’s the final word. We’ll get you settled and then Howard and I can help you with anything you need. Plus, I’m sure Tony can find it in himself to get you up to date on pop culture.”

Tony is still scowling, so he doesn’t add to the conversation.

“He’ll stop sulking soon, don’t worry,” Howard laughs.

“I really appreciate this, Mr Stark.”

“If I’m calling you Steve, you can call me Howard.”

“And call me Maria.”

“You can call me Sir,” Tony jokes, but backtracks from the look his mother gives him. “Or Tony. Whatever. Jesus.”

Steve is about to voice his confusion and gratitude when the entire room shakes with the force of an explosion from outside. The sky lights up, and then there is screaming.

New York is under attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments make my day every time. Thank you all!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not the battle of New York, but it's equally as thrilling.

Chapter Seventeen

 

Tony is grabbed around the waist by his father. Howard wastes no time in dragging him down to the workshop, and Maria follows closely after.

“Howard, what’s happening?” Maria cries in panic.

“I’m not sure, but you two need to stay down here! I’ll be back!”

“Wait, dad, don’t- you can’t leave! You won’t be safe!”

Howard laughs, though it's clear he doesn’t find it funny.

“I didn’t become a weapons manufacturer without learning how to shoot.”

And with that, Howard leaves through the sliding doors, ordering Y.I.N.S.E.N to put the lab on lockdown. Yin complies, though they all know it’ll change is Tony asks it to. However, with his mother by his side, he has no way to leave. He’s stuck, not that he’d know what to do otherwise. He has no idea what’s going on upstairs.

“Anthony Stark, don’t you _dare_ leave this room!”

Tony freezes.

“Mamma, I wasn’t,” Tony promises with big, innocent eyes. “I was just gonna find out what’s going on.”

Maria looks him over critically, before nodding and following him over to the wall console, where a large screen sits, surrounded by smaller screens. Tony’s nimble fingers get to work immediately, picking up the news from stations across the world.

New York looks like it’s being overrun by nanobots. Sometimes they separate and start to devour buildings, and other times they converge into a more significant being, taking different shapes every time. Tony is torn between revelling in how _cool_ it is that someone has not only made nanobots, but has also managed to manipulate them into doing something so awesome, and panic at the danger everyone is in.

“Steve has _not_ put on that ridiculous 40’s outfit,” Maria moans, shaking her head.

Sure enough, there is Steve, wielding his shield and wearing the outfit he did in the old comics. Tony is transfixed, but his mother has grabbed one of Tony’s old sketchbooks and is designing what looks like a modern Captain America costume. Tony wants to watch both, but when the camera’s pick up his dad crouched on the top of a building, his wants give out, and he observes his dad.

He appears to be fiddling with what looks like an arrow while a man in a strange purple outfit sits next to him. Tony stares, a tickle of familiarity toying with the back of his mind. He looks suspiciously like the man from the roof of the Shield facility. Tony can’t read lips very well, but he thinks that his father is explaining to the man that he should shoot the next time the nanobots converge, and the EMP will take them all out simultaneously.

“Smart man, your father. A complete idiot, but incredibly smart.”

Maria looks stern, but there’s a fondness she can’t hide no matter how she may be trying. Tony doesn’t really understand what she means, but he doesn’t take his eyes away from his dad and the man, who is clearly an archer, considering the expert way he operates the bow.

Tony watches with mounting tension, waiting for the nanobots to get together, and when they do, Tony can almost hear the whistle of the arrow as it strikes the target dead-centre. The thing crumbles away, all life gone. Tony is beyond tempted to go out and sneak one for experimental purposes, but with his mother at his side, he knows he doesn’t stand a chance.

One of the smaller screen’s changes perspective, showing Captain America and the red-headed lady in a skin-tight Kevlar outfit. She’s stunning. She looks scary, though. Like, she could snap your neck while eating ice cream and smiling scary.

Tony tracks their movements as they walk towards a little alcove in a bakery. It’s blocked by an industrial trash can, but Captain America rips it away, revealing a scrawny looking man with a weird hand-held device. Tony can only assume that he is the culprit, and the way the red-head throws a knife at the console confirms this. Captain America pulls the man from the hole and drags him to the nearest law enforcement, who waste no time slapping cuffs on and throwing him into the back of a police car.

“Captain America is _so_ cool,” Tony whispers, staring slack-jawed at the screen.

Maria chuckles, looking much calmer now that the danger is over. They watch as police swarm the area, cleaning up immediately, and Howard steps in front of a camera with a blonde journalist.

“Mr Stark, do you have anything you wish to share about the events that have unfolded today?”

Howard holds his head high and gives the camera his signature smile.

“The Stark Relief Charity will be in immediate effect, helping anyone who has been negatively impacted by the events of today. Furthermore, Stark Industries will work closely with the military to build preventative measures for those who build weapons that seek to harm innocent civilians.”

“Unlike the weapons you manufacture, which only hard innocents off US soil?”

Howard’s smile turns plastic, and Tony scowls at the lady.

“In the upcoming weeks, Stark Industries will be hosting the famous Stark Expo, which will last for an entire six months. We will be giving you a taste of the future today.”

And with that, Howard walks off the screen, and the woman prattles on about her opinion on the weapons industry. Maria asks Y.I.N.S.E.N to turn it off, and even though Tony voices his protests, he forgets about it the moment Howard walks into the lab.

Tony runs to him and hugs him around the waist, glad that he’s safe. Howard hugs him back, and then Tony notices three people behind him, and immediately pulls back, not wanting to look like some idiot kid who still hugs his parents.

Because behind him stands Steve, the man from the rooftop and the pretty, scary red-head from the TV. They seem a little out of sorts and are covered in dust and bits of debris.

“So, this is Clint and Natasha. I’ve extended the same invitation we gave to Steve.”

Maria looks confused, but Tony is immediately on edge.

The scary lady is _moving in?_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

 

Tony was, unsurprisingly, having a rough time adjusting to having bonafide heroes living in his house. Natasha was beautiful, Clint was loud, and Steve was mournful. Tony couldn’t judge any of them for their demeanour, but he wanted to, because they steadily encroached on his space, and it all started on day one.

Clint would talk to Tony any chance he got. He’d want to hear about everything he’s doing, and Tony would indulge him because he doesn’t know what else to do. He’d answer the silly questions and secretly enjoy the company. Clint was funny and always made Tony feel like he was smarter than he is.

Natasha babied him every chance she got. It really stole away from her hotness when she was checking on him every other second. Natasha would deliver food, refuse to serve coffee and drag him to bed she deemed it necessary. Tony tries to hate it, but she was so gentle about it, he couldn’t manage it.

Tony feels like they’re some kind of nuisance, but he knows he’s the worst of it.

Tony’s Dad was due to leave in three days. Tony was naturally anxious about that fact. He didn’t like it when his parents left without him, but it was their anniversary, so he avoided being too clingy.

“Tony, come on, son, give me a little space,” his father begged.

Tony pouted. He was quiet and unobtrusive in the corner of the office, drawing a blueprint of a new robot. He was barely noticeable. If his father was able to ignore the fact that Tony was also making an itinerary of his father’s trip away, and creating a constant dialogue between himself and Howard.

“What’s your favourite cheese?”

“Cheddar,” Howard answers with a sigh.

“What’s your favourite weather?”

“Thunder.”

And so it goes. Tony can’t stop asking questions, and his father humours him endlessly by answering them, no matter how ridiculous they get.

“Ok, Anthony,” Howard says, finally. “I stole a nanobot from the wreckage. Would you like to analyse it?”

“Would it?!” Tony cries, jumping up from his seat in the corner.

Howard smiles broadly at him and nods.

“Here,” he says, holding out his hand with a small bot in the palm. “I want a full report by the time I come back. After we’ve finished repairing that little heart of yours, maybe the two of us could branch into nanotechnology?”

Tony swells with excitement. He takes the nanobot in his hand and gives his father a bright smile.

“I won’t let you down!”

“You couldn’t if you tried, Tony. You could do nothing at all and still make me the proudest father alive.”

Tony practically skips down to the lab. Steve is there, like he has been for the last few days, simply being himself without throwing himself at Tony.  He has a sketch pad on his lap, and a charcoal pencil in his grip.

“Dad wants me to do a special project for him,” he says smugly to Steve. “He trusts me to do it all on my own.”

“Howard Jnr must know how smart you are,” Steve replies with a warm smile.

“He does.”

No other words are spoken as Tony gets to work. When eleven in the evening rolls around, Tony has run out of steam. Steve watches with a smile as Tony falls asleep on the workbench. Steve grants him a few minutes before he carries the sleeping child to bed, tucking him into bed. Steve feels a strange warmth when he watches the boy sleep, and he doesn’t notice when Howard appears.

“Did he fall asleep at his desk again?” Howard asks fondly as he walks over and pulls the duvet up to Tony’s chin and runs a hand through his son's hair.

“He did.”

“He does that sometimes. Doesn’t know his limits yet.”

Steve and Howard watch Tony for a short while. Tony sleeps soundly, as all children his age should. His chest rises and falls. At one point he says ‘Dad, I love you’ and Steve can see the tears form in Howard's eyes.

Watching Tony sleep brings a sense of calm over Howard. After the horror of losing his son to Afghanistan, it’s nice to see that Tony’s recovered enough to sleep properly. Complications of the Arc Reactor aside, Howard is just glad that Tony can find a moment of peace. He deserves more than that, but if it’s the least they can find for him, then it’s enough.

“I would give everything I owned to keep that boy safe,” Howard whispers, eyes focused on Tony’s calm face. “Everything.”

Steve looks at Howard, a strange expression on his face.

“I truly hope you don’t mind me saying this, but your father spoke very differently from you. You were a mere thought when I went under, but I got the impression that he would give up his first born child to protect everything he owned.”

“You couldn’t be wrong,” Howard admits. “But he and I, we have different directions for everything. Tony and Maria, they’re everything I could ever want in the whole world. They’re perfect in every way, no matter how much useless jewellery Maria buys, or how much trouble – and there’s a lot of that – Tony gets into. They could never do wrong. I love them more than life itself. I would die to keep them safe. I would give up the universe if it meant keeping them safe. I didn’t know love until I met them. I’m more blessed than anyone could ever imagine.”

Steve smiles, though it’s watery. His mother, Sarah, used to say as much. Oddly, it’s rare to find someone who believes the same, and even more refreshing to find those sentiments coming out of the mouth of Howard Snr’s offspring.

“Steve, I have a favour to ask.”

Tony remains in his slumber as Howard’s gaze changes from impenetrable love aimed at Tony to sincerity aimed at Steve. Steve almost reels from the change, but he quells the desire. He’s a super soldier. Of all the things, emotions aren’t expected of him. Steve finally looks up, taking in Howard's expression.

“Anything,” he finally says, sincerity threading his words.

“I’m going away in a few days. It’ll be just over a week, but if anything happens to me, I want you to care for him. He still has the staff – Jarvis and Ana I’ve kept on, not just because they’re my greatest friends, but because Tony has known them his whole life – They’ll care for his every need, even if they only have a cent to spare, though their inheritance alone will provide more than that. I want someone else, someone that even my own father trusted beyond me. That’s you, Steve. If something happens, anything that takes me out of the equation, care for my boy. Look after Tony.”

Steve feels resolution settle in his stomach. It’s heavy and too much to bear, but Steve takes it as though he’s familiar with it.

“What if I can’t?”

“Then I trust you to check in as often as you can.”

 

In Steve’s day, after he led his first mission to retrieve the lost soldiers, more weight was put on his shoulders than he could hope to carry. Howard is giving him the option. If he can’t take it, then he can take a secondary position. That means more than anyone can possibly hope to put into words.

“I’ll do everything within my power to keep Tony safe, Howard.”

Howard nods, and leaves the room, casting one final, loving look towards his sleeping son.

Steve stares at Tony for a long time before yawning and heading to his own room. It’s a big responsibility, but he knows it would be worth it. Tony is a gem, and Steve will give everything he has to protect the boy from harm.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who has ever left a comment or kudos.  
> I've spent my life trying to be a writer, and your comments have brought me as close as I think I'll ever get.  
> When I read your comments, I swell with pride. It honestly means the world to me.  
> I may never be a real writer (though I'll never stop trying) I appreciate every interaction.  
> I learned late in life (19, a few years ago) that I was dyslexic and had ADHD. This had a massively negative effect on me, cause I didn't know how to deal with it. I thought I was expected to lose my life's dream.  
> I'm not kidding when I say that you've renewed that sense of passion. Every comment I've received had made me a better person.  
> Thank you all. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys...  
> Sorry.

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

Tony learns to deal with the intrusive adventures of Clint, Nat and Steve quickly. He has no choice. They’ve asserted themselves in his life, and he just has to adapt. They don’t mean him any harm, obviously. They mostly just exist in the same space as him, occupying his time in their own ways. Clint insists that they play video games together, Nat encourages him to learn a self-defence, and Steve offers to take him running. He didn’t really want to do any of them in the beginning, but it took just a day to drag him into their little plot of taking him from the lab, especially after Maria complains over breakfast that he’s wasting his youth in there.

It’s a whole lot more socialising than he’s used to, and 100% exercise than ever done, but he can see the way his Dad’s eyes light up when Tony interacts with them. Though, part of it might be that he’s being kept out of his parent’s hair while they’re preparing for the trip. They leave tomorrow morning, and Tony still hovers when he has time, which, between the video game marathons, the jogging adventures and sparring with Nat, is something he doesn’t have much of anymore.

His father’s project - fabricating a new core of the arc reactor - is slowly becoming a reality, as Tony can see from the door of his dad’s workshop. The final piece should be there by the time they’re back, which means Tony won’t wake up writhing in pain anymore, nor will he have to complain about how much the increased physical activity affects his heart like he’s some octogenarian. He’s lied up until now, saying that he’s tired, and neither Steve nor Nat pushes him too hard. He dreads having to keep it up for too long.

He’s excited by the prospects of _not_ inching closer to his death bed, but his parents leaving still makes him unnecessarily uneasy, so all potential joy is drowned in separation anxiety. Jarvis calls it sweet, though to Tony it’s just another awkward indicator of his age, one that he’s trying not to show too much around the heroes that live in the house.

That all falls apart in the morning when his parents leave.

“We’ll be back in a few days, Tony,” Howard promises, hugging Tony tight.

“And I’ll make sure to bring you back a present,” Maria says with a kiss to his forehead. “What would you like?”

“Maybe a brother?” Tony asks, eyes lighting up.

Maria bats his arm lightly, and Howard simply chuckles and ruffles his hair. Jarvis, once he’s finished loading the car, puts his hands on Tony’s shoulders. They stand on the porch and wave as his parents away and disappear.

Tony can’t help himself when he turns and buries his face in Jarvis’ stomach, tears streaming despite his best efforts to stop them. Jarvis doesn’t move, holding Tony tightly, being there the same way he has since Tony was small.

“Come on, Master Tony, I believe Ana has made us some hot chocolate, and I bet if we look hard enough, we can find some cookies too.”

Tony sniffles, but doesn’t argue as Jarvis ushers him inside. He ignores the pity-filled looks offered by the heroes and jumps up onto one of the stools. Ana puts a cup down on the table, and then she follows it with five more. Tony looks up and finds that Steve, Nat and Clint have sat down too. No one says anything as Jarvis rummages around for cookies and then joins them at the table.

 

Tony is in no mood to be playing video games. Clint, however, doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. He shoves a controller in Tony’s hand, and it’s only when Clint starts to joke that Tony can’t win even if he tries that Tony gives in.

Later, he’s in his room staring at the ceiling, counting down the minutes until his parents come back – 7920 minutes – when Nat knocks on the door.

“Hey, kid. Wanna go spar?”

Tony shakes his head.

“Please? I’m kinda bored, and Clint is hogging the TV.”

Tony knows for a fact that Nat has a TV in her room, and that she doesn’t really need Tony to help her alleviate her boredom. However, he swings his legs off the bed and tells her he’ll be there in five minutes.

After learning some new moves, Tony almost forgets to be sad. Nat seems to recognise this, and she lures him into some light conversation while teaching him evasive manoeuvres.

“So, what kind of movies do you like?”

“Who’s your favourite band?”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“What is your favourite subject at school?”

Tony answered them rapid-fire, not used to such menial topics, but allowing himself to fall in and talk without thinking. Nat would nod and hum with each reply, not looking surprised at any of them. It’s refreshing, to not have to spend every conversation scrambling around his brain to ensure he’s giving the most intelligent possible answer.

“I’m tired,” Tony whispers after an hour, his heart beating painfully against the arc reactor. “I think I need to sit—”

The world flashes black, and his limbs suddenly turn to jelly.

“Tony?!”

Nat is hovering over him, and he realises that he’s fallen to the ground in a haze of pain. Trembling hands cover his chest, and he groans when the skin around the intrusive metal burns. Nat’s face contorts in panic as she lifts his T-Shirt.

“What is this?” she asks, fingers tracing one of the black veins up to his shoulder. “Tony, what’s going on?”

Tony shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to answer that, not when he’s planned to keep it all to himself. Not when it was his little secret with Howard.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

That drags Tony out of his thoughts.

“No! No doctors. This… this is nothing. Temporary. Minor inconvenience, I swear. Dad and I, we’re working on it. When he gets back, everything will be fine. Please, don’t tell the others.”

Natasha seems conflicted, but Tony sighs in relief when she relents and carefully lifts him, setting him on his feet. Tony takes a few deep breaths, waiting for the darkness around his vision to fade, and then heads up to his room to relax.

Later that day, an hour or so after the sun has gone down and as Tony is watching the news with Steve, Nat and Clint, Jarvis comes into the room and turns the TV off.

“Master Tony, I have some terrible news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments on the last chapter were amazing. Reading those comments had me smiling. You're the best.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes some horrible discoveries.

Tony is frozen. A loud buzzing sound fills his head and the world around him blurs. He can’t really hear what Jarvis is saying, but somehow he knows anyway. Knows Jarvis giving Tony the worst news he could ever receive. Knows that he’s trying to softly explain that Tony will never see the people he loves most in the world. Tony is aware that he’s lost everything.

He knows that he’s no longer, Anthony Stark, son of a genius. He’s now Anthony Stark the orphan.

He’s now broken.

He feels it. He feels a part of himself - his heart, his soul - dies and leaves him fractured, like mirror cracked from the fist of a grief-stricken man. He’s suddenly not functioning. He should be crying. Should be screaming. Should be begging for Jarvis to admit that he’s lying, but he’s just… sat there.

 

 

“How can we help?” Steve asks, standing up.

He gulps as he looks from Tony, who appears almost comatose, and then to Clint and Nat. They look just as distraught as Steve feels, though he can’t tell if it’s from the loss of Howard, or from the loss of the happy boy Tony was. He can tell even now that Tony won’t ever recover from this. But, it’s up to the people he has left to step up and do what they can to fix things.

Suddenly, Tony stands up. His face is pale and blank, and Steve doesn’t know what to do about it. He should tell him things will be OK, but how could he? He already feels like it would be a lie, one he would be telling to make them all feel better about a horrible situation. Tony walks away before Steve can give any empty words and the people in the room stare after him.

 

 

Mom and Dad can’t be dead, Tony decides. They simply can’t. He won’t _let_ them be dead, and even if there’s not much that Tony can do about it, maybe there’s something Ironman can offer. He heads down into the workshop, ordering Y.I.N.S.E.N to put everything on lockdown and have DUM-E initiate the Ferris Beuller protocol.

It will do him no good to have people searching for him. He has to see for himself, make sure that his parents were just taken hostage. What if they want his dad to build something for them, and are hurting them? He knows they declared Tony dead soon after the attack in Afghanistan, regardless of whether his father believed it. Maybe that same has happened now? And if it has, Tony needs to save them. And he will.

He climbs into the suit and takes off, flying through an abandoned sewage tunnel and coming up under the east river.

“Yin, scan local police reports. Find news of Maria and Howard Stark.”

It takes Y.I.N.S.E.N barely a second to locate the apparent accident. Tony focuses solely on the fact that his parents are still on the scene, according to all reports. They’re a few hours away by car, but in the suit, it should take Tony around ten minutes.

He flies upwards, high into the star-lit sky and shoots off towards the blinking dot on Tony’s HUD.

“Who’s on the scene?”

“My scans tell me that twelve police personnel, two ambulances and Shield are present on the scene.”

“Shield? What are they doing there?”

“That information is unclear at this time.”

Tony wants to believe that they’re just checking on his parents to make sure they’re OK, but he’s suddenly very suspicious of them and their presence. However, it’s good news that people are still there. That means that they’re trying to help Tony’s parents, which means they’re still alive.

Tony sees a plume of smoke between the tree-lined road, and it’s constantly illuminated by the flashing lights from the emergency vehicles. Tony ignores the people milling around the area and touches down, knee bent from the impact and fist down for balance, beside his parents wrecked Rolls Royce.

He regrets it instantly.

On the ground by the driver's side lay his father, beaten and bloody with his neck twisted to the side. The HUD automatically scans for a sign of life and finds nothing. Through the open door, he can see his mother with her eyes open but glassy with a blackened bruise around her neck. HUD detects no pulse.

They’re undeniably dead. Tony retches behind the helmet.

“Excuse me!” a man with a pirate patch and leather jacket calls, walking boldly towards Tony. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

Tony leaves. He doesn’t know what else to do. He vaguely notes that someone has shot at the suit, but it bounces off with a harmless ping and Tony is then too far away for them to take another shot. Tony comes to the ground again a few miles away, letting the suit open up and spill him onto the frozen ground.

He crumples, screaming at the silent trees surrounding him and beating his fist against the frost-covered dirt.

Everything hurts. It hurts more than the arc reactor, hurts more than Obadiah’s betrayal, hurts more than the time his dog was hit by a car while Tony was at school. It’s as though all of that has come together and been multiplied by a thousand. His heart aches in a way that has nothing to do with the faulty reactor, his bones throb and his head feels as though it's under a million tonnes of pressure.

_Why?_

Why did this happen? Why is that _fair_. Why didn’t he stop them leaving when he had the chance?

_Why?_

Tony senses a presence behind him before he hears the crack of a branch.

He whips his head around, his tear-stained face and red eyes turn to face a man with a mask on his face, and a metal arm at his side.

“Yin,” Tony whispers.

Suddenly, the suit fires a stun blast, and unlike what Tony had expected, the man side-steps and it explodes against a tree instead. The man stares at Tony, dead eyes boring into broken ones.

“Again.”

The suit fires blast after blast, and each one misses as the man moves with the agility of a monkey and the grace of a dancer. Tony is mesmerised, though the loud explosions and bright after-glare of each shot keep Tony aware of the danger he is in.

“Who are you?” Tony shouts, anguish tainting his voice.

“I am the man who murdered your parents.”

And with that, the man seems to disappear in front of Tony’s eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First,  
> Sorry. It was necessary for the plot.  
> Second,   
> Thank you for the amazing comments. You fuel me.  
> Third,  
> Spider-man: Far From Home was super dope and I can't wait to hear what you think about it!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is dealing, but not really.

Chapter Twenty-One

 

Tony knows that he should be tearing after the man, screaming for what he’s done, but he can’t. He’s aware that he’s probably going into shock or something because he’s just staring dumbly after the man with the mask.

Who was he?

Why did he look like he was in pain for his admission?

Why did he murder Tony’s parents?

What did he think he would gain from telling Tony?

“Master Tony, your body temperature is lowering. If you spend much longer out here, you’ll risk hypothermia.”

Tony stares at the spot the man had been stood in for a moment longer, before deciding that he best listen to Yin. He does feel rather shivery, and if he turns back up at the house and falls sick, Jarvis will have some questions for him. He doesn’t really feel like admitting that he left the mansion without permission.

Tony stumbles back to his suit, and it wraps itself around him seamlessly, and he immediately makes his way back to his home, the one filled with people but that will undoubtedly feel empty for the rest of his life.

 

*

 

Steve is pacing the living room of a dead man’s living room, ignoring the intent stares from Natasha and Clint. His skin is crawling with grief, and his mind is numb with confusion. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do.

Didn’t they save they manage to stop a mad man from wreaking havoc on New York City? How did they manage that, and fail to protect Howard and his wife? What will happen to their son now? Will he have to go into care, or will Jarvis be given guardianship? What should Steve and his haphazard team do? Are they able to help in any way?

None of these questions are going to be answered any time soon, he knows. He wants to ask, but he’s not sure who to direct the questions at. Fortunately, before he has the chance to agonise over his unspoken worries, someone rings the doorbell.

“Colonel Rhodes,” Jarvis greets, his ordinarily warm voice saddened.

“Where is he?”

Steve panics, thinking that one of Howard's friends is coming over no believing the news, and Steve isn’t sure that he’s equipped to deal with the inevitable fall out of such a thing. He doesn’t know if he could watch, let alone offer a shoulder to cry on. Would even have the right to?

“He’s locked himself in his lab. Thank you for coming. He’ll need you.”

Steve sighs in some relief. At least Tony will have someone else close by to help with this. He wouldn’t be much use to the kid, and Jarvis still has a house to run.

The colonel, who looks quite young to be such a thing, walks away and into the depths of the house. There’s a story there, Steve thinks. Rhodey is so much older than Tony, so their friendship couldn’t have been conceived at school. Then again, the kid is a genius, so maybe he’s already graduated high school. Hell, perhaps even College. Steve really doesn’t know.

He should probably try to learn a little more about the kid if they’re going to be living together.

 

*

 

Tony gets into the lab just as Rhodey starts to bang on the blacked-out doors. He waves a hand to signal Yin, and the doors open up. Rhodey looks wrecked, and when he finds Tony curling up in the corner, he rushes to his side.

Rhodey doesn’t say anything at first. He simply lowers himself to the floor and pulls Tony onto his lap. Had Tony has his senses about him, rather than them being drowned in grief, he would have probably complained about how Rhodey was babying him. Instead of this, he simply curled into him and sobbed into his military jacket.

Rhodey rubs a comforting arm up and down Tony’s back, comforting him in the only way Tony could appreciate right now. He can’t take words. Words won’t do anything. He just wants to be near someone, he wants to share in his grief. He doesn’t wish for Rhodey to suffer by any means, but there’s something lightening about not being left alone in his time of utmost sorrow.

“I see you have new house-guests,” Rhodey murmurs after a long while. “What’s up there?”

Tony breathes deeply, preparing himself to talk and praying that it doesn’t come out wobbly.

“They were living at Shield, and we already invited Steve to come to live here, so Dad invited the other two too.”

“You’re on a first-name basis with Captain fricking America?” Rhodey asks, incredulously.

“Yeah. Steve’s like… I dunno, a weird uncle?”

Rhodey’s chuckles send a vibration through Tony’s body, and he finds himself laughing as well, even though a second ago he didn’t think he was capable of it.

“These are weird times, Tones. You know we’ve managed to trace back intergalactic signals to one particular place in the galaxy? I got the news today.”

Tony smiles and gently removes himself from Rhodey’s lap, settling himself against him but at his left, rather than on him.

“Yeah, but that’s not such a surprise. I mean, considering the magnitude of the galaxy, one place may have the atmospheric technologies to be able to send a signal without the signals meaning anything. It doesn’t mean there’s life out there, it just means something matches the specific abilities to.”

“That made no sense.”

“I know,” Tony shrugs into Rhodey’s shoulder, “but I knew what I was saying. Basically, it doesn’t prove aliens. In fact, because everything out there is so huge, beyond our comprehension, it’s always been likely that one thing would be able to send signals without their being life behind it.”

Rhodey nods. They fall into silence.

“What am I going to do now?” Tony asks eventually, his voice wavering. “I… my parents… I’m alone.”

“Tones, you’re never alone. I’ll be here. I’ll be here for as long as I can. I’ll help you through everything.”

Tony’s bottom lip wobbles, and he breaks down again.

He doesn’t know who he is with his mom and dad there to guide him. He never thought he’d have to figure that out. It hurts.

It hurts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I teared up a little bit writing this.  
> I wish I could mention the name of every person who has commented and given Kudos to this story, but it's too much. You're all friggin amazing, and I pray every chapter brings you joy, even when it's not joyous.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honour the fallen.

Chapter 22

 

Tony is trying to think about anything _but_ his parents, but memories of their bodies come back to his mind sporadically, and he flinches at the images and starts to cry again. Rhodey is patient, never faltering when Tony’s mood changes seemingly randomly. He murmurs calming words but doesn’t offer empty promises of ‘it’ll be OK’ or anything else useless. Tony appreciates that more than the man could ever know.

“I need you to be honest with me,” Rhodey says eventually. “I promise that no matter what you say, I won’t be angry, and I won’t tell anyone. I just want the truth.”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“That time you promised you hadn’t eaten all your Halloween candy while bouncing off the walls comes to mind,” Rhodey teases.

“I was seven!” Tony squawks.

“And it was my first time properly babysitting you. You made me look bad. You threw up all over your moms’ shoes.”

Tony chuckles at the memory. He remembers Rhodey trying to wrangle him into bed, but Tony was too hyped to stay still for even a second.

“If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?”

Tony has a suspicion about what Rhodey is going to ask, and he makes a snap decision to answer honestly. Rhodey is his best friend after all, he deserves Tony being truthful, and keeping secrets isn’t going to do anything for their friendship except ruin it. Besides, Rhodey is in on his biggest secret of all. What’s one more going to hurt?

“Did you go to the scene?”

Tony gulps.

“Yeah.”

Rhodey sighs and pulls Tony into a tight hug and kisses him on the head.

“I had to,” Tony tries to justify. “I couldn’t… what if they _weren’t_? I needed to know, I had to see if I could do something. But when I got there… they… Rhodey, Dad was strangled to death. And I know who did it. Kind of.”

Rhodey makes a shocked sound and seems to jump in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Tony bites his lip, not sure if he can explain what happened without breaking down.

“Your suit, does it record?”

Tony nods.

Rhodey tucks Tony’s face into his chest and then asks Y.I.N.S.E.N to replay the video from the scene. Tony doesn’t look, but he can hear Rhodey’s reactions and he makes guesses at the points that he’s at. When the video comes to an end, Rhodey thanks Yin.

“Wow.”

Tony nods.

“We’ll have a conversation about this later? For now, let me tell you a story about when you were three and thought it would be funny to draw a mural on the walls of your fathers study.”

 

Rhodey stays in the lab with Tony for a long time, but their time comes to an end when Jarvis walks in. He looks forlorn, but he smiles sadly when he see’s Tony curled up beside his best friend, talking quietly about mundane things.

“Come on, Master Tony, I’ve made sandwiches.”

Tony has words on his tongue, his ‘I’m not hungry’ almost out of his mouth, but Rhodey takes the decision upon himself and gently hauls Tony to his feet. With a firm hand on his shoulder, he guides Tony out of the lab and together they all walk upstairs, joining the large dining table where Steve, Nat and Clint sit, alongside Ana and all the house staff. There aren’t enough seats to accommodate all thirty of them, so stools have been carried in from various rooms around the house.

Alongside four large platters of sandwiches are thirty champagne glasses and several bottles, ready to be opened. Tony gulps, not having been prepared to deal with so many people today. However, he’s a Stark, and he’s been taught to handle social interactions like a career socialite.

Jarvis busies himself with filling up the glasses, and Ana hands out tiny plates for people to eat their sandwiches. Slowly, the glasses make their way around and everyone has a glass of champagne, except for Tony, who has been given apple juice instead.

“Please stand,” Jarvis says.

The room rumbles for a second as chairs are pushed back and people take a stand, glasses held in hands and faces serious.

“I would like to say a word for our fallen bosses. Howard and Maria Stark let us all into their lives, trusting us to care for their house, their health and their only child. We were treated like part of the family, and we’ll never lose that privilege.

“Howard was a man ahead of his time who shunned the title of a troubled boy and became an incredible man and an even more incredible father. Generous beyond what the people beyond this room will ever understand and kinder than a man I have ever met in my sixty years.

“And Maria, a beautiful woman with a wicked sense of humour and a mind sharp enough to rival Howards. With a mind for the creative and a love for the world, she knew no bounds. She was unendingly patient when Howard was holed up with a project, and never turned a deaf ear to her son’s questions and needs.

“Together, they created a couple like no other and built an empire that has saved many lives and benefited more. So, tonight we honour the people who have changed the world to be better and created a child who has inherited the best of them and will take on their legacy.

“To the king and queen of Stark Industries, may their memory never die, and to Anthony Edward Stark, who has the whole future to mould into his vision.”

“To the Stark’s,” the room roars.

Tony is humbled, and he huddles into Jarvis’ side, tears slipping down his cheeks. Everyone drinks and Tony tries to, but he’s worried he’s going to choke on the lump in his throat. They hold a minute of silence, and Tony takes that time to eye everyone in the room. The maids, the cooks, the gardeners, Jarvis, Ana and the heroes, plus Rhodey. They’ve all been there longer than Tony has been making memories.

He may have lost his parents, but he still has his family.

 

_He’s not as alone as he thought he would be._


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear.

Chapter 23

Things don’t get easier for Tony. Even having the constant support from his best friend and Jarvis, he still has a hard time sleeping and cries when he wakes up and forgets that his parents are dead. Everyone is patient with him, which he finds miraculous. He’s not sure how they’re doing that, willingly sitting with him when he sobs, never getting annoyed when he becomes non-responsive after being hit with another wave of grief.

There are a lot of times when that happens. Tony almost feels like he’s back to normal, and then he remembers his loss, and he just shuts down.

He stops running with Steve because he doesn’t want to go outside and face the hordes of the press who haven’t quite understood that a child grieving isn’t supposed to be front-page news. He won’t spar with Natasha anymore, because his chest is getting worse and he has no idea how to solve it. He won’t play with Clint anymore because he finds no joy in that stuff now.

Everything around him seems to wilt, and there’s constant darkness that he carries with him everywhere he goes. No matter how bright someone tries to be, Tony is shading in the area around them.

He can’t find anything to be happy about.

And then there’s the funeral he has to attend in two days. He’s asked for his input at every corner, but he’s not _sure_ what they would have wanted. He doesn’t remember his mother’s favourite flowers or his father's favourite music. He feels awful for it, every time they ask him a question and his answer is, ‘I don’t know’. He should know. He should have asked, and taken note when they were around, but now they’re not, and he’s beginning to think that he didn’t know them very well at all.

Jarvis promises him that it’s OK, but Tony grows more and more distressed with every piece of information he learns he is missing. Eventually, they stop asking, and Tony hates himself all the more for it.

The morning of the funeral is quiet. Steve, Nat, Clint, Jarvis, Rhodey, Ana and every member of staff meets in the foyer dressed in black. Tony, Rhodey, Jarvis and Ana ride together in one car, while Steve, Nat and Clint ride in another, and the staff are split between several more cars. The security detail is immense, and Tony wishes it weren’t. It makes him feel edgy.

When they get close to the funeral hall, Tony can see masses of people wearing black, lining the streets. When they see the congregation of cars, people bow to them, and some take off their hats. Tony erupts in goosebumps as he stares at them all, and he wonders why they would go to the funeral of a man they don’t know.

“They want to pay their respects,” Rhodey whispers, “to two people who have had a profound impact on their lives.”

Tony isn’t sure he fully understands that, but his heart warms seeing them. Seeing the people that cared about his parents. Seeing the effect they had on the world.

It gives Tony a resolve.

Big as they may be, one day, Tony will fill his parent's shoes. He will achieve great things and work to make the world a better place for everyone in it.

The car pulls up outside of the funeral hall, and Tony is surprised that he can’t see any reporters. He’d expected hoards of them, crawling over each other like parasites to get a shot of Tony grieving for his parents, but there’s no one except the general public.

Sure, some of them have their phones out, and he predicts he’ll very likely be seeing some photo’s circulating, but this is definitely the lesser of two evils, and he’s not sure if it’s a direct result of the security, or if maybe the press has suddenly grown morals.

He’s guessing the latter.

They drive through the gates and stop outside of the main doors. The skies have darkened with the upcoming rain, and Tony feels a drop land on his nose before he heads inside.

The entire building is packed, and Tony, Jarvis and Steve and taken to the sides.

“You understand what’s going to happen now?” Jarvis asks.

“Yes. I’m going to walk in front of the… the things and then I’ll sit down. After the director has said his words, I’ll say something. And then… yeah.”

Tony can’t say the words needed, because it hurts too much to voice them out loud, but Jarvis nods, and they stand to the side. When the caskets arrive, Steve, some of Howard’s closest friends and Maria’s many brothers lift the two onto their shoulders, and the morbid procession begins. Tony leads, hand being squeezed tightly by Jarvis’ until they reach the front, where the two are set down. Tony sits down, and Jarvis puts an arm around his shoulders.

In that moment, listening to the priest, seeing the boxes containing his parents, Tony thinks that Jarvis’ arm is the only thing stopping him from falling apart, and he can’t help it when the tears come. A tissue is pressed into his hand by Nat, and Clint leans forward and squeezes Tony’s shoulder reassuringly.

Before he’s ready, he’s called to say a few words to the room, filled with people who knew his parents far longer than he did, and then to the world as well, if the video camera at the back is anything to go by.

“Hello,” Tony begins, and then clears his throat. “Thank you all for gathering today to say goodbye to two incredible—”

Tony is cut off by the sound of an explosion, dense smoke filling the room and someone shooting a dart into his neck.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

One-minute Steve is watching Tony make a speech, and the next the room around him erupts into utter chaos. There’s a bang and everything becomes clouded in smoke, and a second later everybody begins screaming.

Steve is in action immediately, trying to parse through the noise, attempting distinguish the individual sounds, attempts to find a source, maybe whether there was a fight going on, but all he notices is the _lack_ of Tony.

“Tony has been taken,” he hears Widow say from his side, confirming his suspicion.

“Search the place,” Hawkeye orders.

No one questions him, and the three of them spread out instantly, dodging around the people to avoid colliding with panicked bodies. Steve’s first action is to head towards the podium, and even before the smoke clears, he knows that Tony isn’t anywhere to be found.

Glass crunches beneath his shoes, so he looks around and finds one of the windows broken, sunlight creating a spotlight through the thinning smoke. Using the podium, he vaults through the window, earning himself a few scratches, but he ignores them. They’ll heal up before the blood even has time to stain his suit anyway.

Around him there are thousands of confused people, onlookers in their black attire and pedestrians alike, looking dazed. Steve notices that a few of them are staring at the road behind them, and he guesses that someone of interest has gone that way.

He begins to run, gaining speed with every step until he’s going as fast as some of the cars. He’s not entirely sure what he’s looking for, but if he had to guess, any cars driving too fast are the culprits. So Steve runs. And runs. And runs.

And finds nothing.

He knows he could keep running for days, (something Tony would call a Forrest Gump, he knows, after watching the movie together) but if he finds nothing, then every moment he continues is simply valuable time wasted. He needs to reconvene with the team and try to find out if they have any news.

“What did you find, Captain?”

The widow is tense, he can see that, and Hawkeye looks like he’s ready to punch something. Unfortunately, Steve doesn’t have anything to offer that will help.

“Nothing.”

Hawkeye curses under his breath.

“Master Tony is missing?” Jarvis asks.

“We’ll get him back,” Steve promises.

The security team start to usher people out, and the journalists and news stations start arriving, only to be turned away. There’s a roar of noise from the vast crowd, and Steve is trying to channel it all out.

“Anthony is no stranger to kidnappings,” Jarvis tells them solemnly. “It is likely that he will be able to get a message to us, or better yet, free himself.”

“Failing that, we will find him. Then. we will kill everyone who has touched even a hair on his head.”

“You’re very intense, Miss Romanov, and I appreciate your dedication, but please remember that Anthony is a child. If there are people dead in his name, he will suffer the consequences of that. It is best that you refrain from such activities and try your best to bring them into the justice system first.”

Widow nods.

“Let’s see what we can do.”

 

Steve, Nat and Clint don’t rest. They don’t take a moment to themselves. They absently eat whatever Ana is offering, and Jarvis is calling contacts for help.

“I would like to offer my services.”

Steve near enough jumps out of his skin at the unfamiliar voice and searches the room for the source.

“I am Y.I.N.S.E.N.,” the voice tells them. “I am an A.I. created by Anthony Stark. I would like to offer my services to ensure he is safely found.”

Against all his natural instincts, Steve figures that they can’t afford to turn away help, whether it has a body or not. It turns out to be the right call because Y.I.N.S.E.N. brings up images on the television of the area surrounding the funeral home.

“I will begin by searching for any suspicious activity, and the area in which I search will grow wider and wider. The further out I get, the longer each search will take. Please be patient.”

Steve can’t help but wish that being patient wasn’t expected of him. Patience is not his forte. Not in situations like this, where someone he cares about is in danger. Maybe it’s too early to say he cares about the young Stark, but he grows on people, his energy infectious and his innocence making Steve want to do everything he can to protect him.

Y.I.N.S.E.N searches a mile around the funeral home and finds nothing. The next search takes twenty minutes, and again, nothing happens. As the area of interest widens, the time they wait takes them into hours.

“Professionals,” Nat says. “Somehow they evaded every camera on site and got away without anyone knowing better.”

That ties a knot in Steve’s stomach. Competent bad guys are the worst possible kind.

“I don’t understand what they would want with a child,” Steve says.

“You underestimate Master Tony,” Jarvis says. “He is sharp-witted, smarter than ninety-nine percent of the world and wealthy beyond the dreams of most. He is valuable in every sense of the word. Since we’ve received no word of a random, we can only assume that they want him for other reasons.”

Steve is about to ask what, but then Jarvis’ phone starts to ring. He answers, talks in short, sharp sentences and then hangs up.

“One of the security personnel stayed at the funeral home to check for possible clues and believes he has found something that we may be interested in.”

Twenty minutes later, the four of them are stood around a hidden passageway in the funeral parlour. Hidden behind the table where the flowers were laid, none of them had noticed the seams of the door, but one of the security team, a Mr Hogan, had discovered it in his tireless search for clues.

“Why was the funeral here?” Natasha asks, suspicion ripe in her tone.

“All the Stark family funerals have been here.”

“This was planned from the beginning,” Hawkeye says suddenly. “They couldn’t get to Tony in the mansion because we were there, but they found a way to bring him somewhere that they could access him.”

“They killed his parents to get him here,” Jarvis whispers. “Who would do something so heinous?”

 

***

 

“Hail Hydra.”

 


	25. Chapter 25

One minute, Tony is choking back tears while talking about his parents, and the next, he’s waking up in a tiny cell with a black window. To say that it is disconcerting would be the understatement of the year.

Tony looks around and frowns. There’s no bed, in fact there is no furniture of any kind. It’s just a white room with one black glass wall and a panel light in the ceiling. Other than himself, it’s completely empty, which fills him with an uncomfortable amount of fear.

Tony knows instantly that this room isn’t designed to hold him for long. Most of his kidnappers have taken some time to make preparations. Usually it at least includes something for him to sleep on and something for him to use as a bathroom. It’s not that the kidnappers are being considerate, they’re simply smart enough to preserve his life long enough for him to be useful.

So, whoever has taken him this time, and bold of them to do it at an event with the most security even Tony has ever seen in his entire life, has different intentions than to just keep him in a room. He wouldn’t assume that they were too stupid to prepare, because no idiot could kidnap a Stark from their own parent’s funeral.

Something tickles the back of his mind, something about hail, but he’s not entirely sure what it is. It’s not making much sense, though he can’t seem to believe that it’s a priority.

Tony takes a moment to check over himself and ensure that he’s not injured. Other than a sore spot on his neck, which, he assumes, is where they tranquillised him and how they knocked him out, he’s in perfect condition. Well, the Arc Reactor is leading him to a slow painful death, but other than that he’s fine.

He doesn’t have to wait long to discover exactly why he’s there. Less than twenty minutes after first waking up, most of which he spent searching for a way out or looking for hidden cameras, someone unlocks the door and three heavily armed men come in.

Tony’s training with Natasha kicks in instantly, and he sweeps the leg of one of the heavily armed men and then brings up an elbow into the others ribcage. He lacks the force to do any real physical damage on strength alone, but he hits them in the right places, and it sends them sprawling.

The third one advances on him, and he rolls to the side, ready to jab him behind his knee, but another man appears in the room so suddenly that Tony doesn’t notice him until he is lifted from the floor by the back on his shirt like a kitten.

Tony twists, trying to see who has him, and he gasps when he recognises the man. Wearing all black tack gear and a mask that covers the bottom half of his face, Tony feels dread settle in the bottom of his stomach.

“You killed my parents,” Tony hisses.

He renews his attempts to attack, but the man seems unaffected. He simply wraps an arm around Tony’s torso, trapping his arms at his side with such strength that Tony can’t move at all. It pushes on the reactor, and though he attempts to power through it, he can’t help but groan in pain.

Tony is carried out of the room by his parent’s murderer and through dark corridors. Try as he might, the convoluted maze of the building means that very soon he realises he wouldn’t even be able to get back to the bare room on his own.

“Ah, the famous Anthony Stark.”

Tony swallows and looks up, eyes meet dark brown ones, so dark that they’re almost black. His smile is vicious and cruel, and his teeth gleam so brightly that Tony knows there’s nothing natural about them.

“Screw you,” Tony hisses.

The man simply nods, and Tony is hauled towards a chair in the centre of the room. Strapped to the chair with painfully tight leather restraints, a rubber guard is shoved in his mouth and he knows that something beyond even his own imagination is going to happen.

An elastic hat is snapped over his skull and Tony renews his bid for freedom when he sees the electrical wires attached to it.

“Light him up,” comes the order, and that’s when it begins.

Pain floods his veins, and he screams around the rubber mouthguard. His body strains to escape the binds holding him down, but it’s fruitless. The pain is unrelenting, and he’s sure it’s branding his skeleton with bursts of lines.

Tony is almost losing his grip on consciousness when the pain stops and he slumps in the chair, twitching every time a shadow of the electricity brushes against him. His chin hits his chest and tears roll down his cheek. A finger chases along the lines of his jaw and then a hand grabs his chin and forces Tony to look up.

“You’re going to work for me,” the man says matter-of-factly, “and if you ever decide to break a rule, this is how you will be punished.”

Tony finds the energy to glower at him, and the man chuckles humourlessly.

“Still a little fight in you? Run it again.”

Tony tries to scream, tries to beg them _not_ to, but a half-second later his body is submerged in agony, and his vision grows painfully white as electricity surges through him. It lasts as long as the last time, and the edges of his vision darken just as his body slumps again.

“You will be given a workshop and the Soldier will ensure you stay in line. Failure to do so will result in punishment. Do you understand?”

Tony wants to argue, wants to tell the man where he can stick it, but the threat of suffering keeps him quiet. He lowers his eyes to the ground.

“Excellent. Soldier, take him. Show him where he will be staying. Use whatever force necessary if he misbehaves. Bring him back if he becomes _difficult._ ”

Tony thinks that’s it for the conversation, but then the man with the black eyes speaks again.

“Hail Hydra.”

The solider offers only a curt nod in return, and Tony is yet again brought to his feet. This time, however, the soldier simply guides him away from the chair, the hand on his shoulder impossibly strong, holding him upright even when his body wants to collapse in on itself.

He’s taken out of the room and onto another long walk that he can’t understand the logistics of. This is worse than the catacombs because the only people who _do_ know where they are and how to escape are the bad guys.

“I thought Captain America took Hydra out,” Tony whispers, his voice as raw as his skin feels. “I don’t understand how this is possible. Steve almost died saving the world from them. Where have they been hiding all this time?”

The soldier doesn’t reply. Despite the pain from talking, he can’t seem to stop.

“What do they want me to do?”

Nothing. Tony doesn’t grow frustrated, but he does start to wonder exactly who this man is to Hydra. An assassin or some kind of slave?

“Not feeling super chatty? That’s OK. Dad says I can talk enough for two people.”

He pushes Tony a little too roughly into another room, and he stumbles slightly. This one has a small cot pushed into one corner, a sink in the other and behind a small partition is a toilet. It’s simply existing for the sake of giving him the basics, and he’s used to more, but he’s not sure if they’ll take his complaints particularly seriously.

Tony is dragged back out of the room and guided into another. This is significantly larger and filled with all of Tony’s favourite toys. They even have Dum-E.

Tony tries to run towards him, the joy of having a familiar face making his heart ache, but another shock runs through his body, the remnants of it still not gone. His feet tangle themselves, and he starts to fall towards the floor with a high-pitched shriek. Had it not been for the help of the soldier, Tony is sure that he would have smacked into the corner of the table and smashed his head open.

“Welcome to your new home,” a voice from the speakers around the room crows. “You have two tasks. One, build us something that will help strengthen our control over assets, and two, cure the illness that we hear ails you.”

Tony figures that the path of least resistance right now would be to simply comply. He picks up a few tool and planning paper and walks carefully over to Dum-E, who beeps his pleasure. With that, Tony gets to work, and prays that he can find a way to escape before he’s forced to do something that gets someone innocent hurt.

“I know you.”

Tony turns to face the solider, who’s mask has been taken off.

Tony’s heart almost stutters to a stop.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-six

 

Tony stares. He doesn’t stop, and even his internal clock can’t tally up just how many minutes he spends taking in the features in front of him. It’s weird, he knows, and rude too, but this person in front of him is a damn miracle in the worst possible way. How is this possible? Not only is the man supposed to be dead, but failing that, he’s at least supposed to be _old._ He doesn’t look like he’s aged a day over the old photographs Howard has in his office.

“Bucky?” he whispers.

Tony isn’t even sure the name is something he’s allowed to say. It’s the name he’s read in the comics, and the name his father has spoken about, but it’s far too personal. Tony can’t spend too much time agonizing over that because the man is standing in front of Tony as a solider for Hydra of all people.

“But you’re dead,” Tony says stupidly. “And the good guy.”

It doesn’t seem to matter how ridiculous he sounds, because the man, _the winter soldier,_ seems just as confused.

“What the hell is a Bucky?”

 

Tony blinks several times before understanding truly dawns. This man has been with Hydra for years. He must have been. It doesn’t make sense any other way. Somehow, they’ve kept the man young, and forced him into some kind of puppet. They must have burned out his personality and memories. That horrifying experience Tony was forced into must now be the Soldier’s normal.

How is Tony supposed to combat that? Seventy years of conditioning over the few trivial pieces of information that Tony knows about the man.

“You were Steve Rogers Best friend, a member of the 107th, a soldier for the US army.”

The confusion drops, and it’s replaced with a blank expression.

“Steve Rogers lives with me now,” Tony offers, hoping against logic that he can maybe coax the man out.

There isn’t even a twitch of recognition, and Tony can’t even comprehend how much this man must have been tortured to be in this place. However, he knows that he has to do _something_ to resolve it.

“What have you been asked to do?”

Bucky doesn’t respond, and they enter a kind of unwilling staring contest that Tony feels compelled to partake in. Bucky’s stare is so intense that Tony has to look away.

“Soldier, what are your orders?”

“Contain Anthony Stark, ensure he follows orders.”

Tony considers this for a while.

“Am I allowed to ask you questions?”

The man remains silent, and Tony takes that as a no. It doesn’t stop the dozens of questions he has bubbling under the surface though, and he tries to ignore them for the time being. He has things to do for now, and the poisonous creeping lines on his chest take precedent.

Met with a contradiction of desires, Tony makes a list of things he’ll need in order to fix his palladium poisoning. He desperately doesn’t want to do what they’re asking of him, but he can’t see himself being able to fight his way out of this when he’s barely surviving. The list is sent, and within three hours, during which time Tony tours the workshop, all the materials he needs are ready for him.

“How did they get all this so fast?” Tony asks himself aloud. “Oh. Never mind.”

The equipment is the exact same he had at the house, only with a few additions that were likely delivered after his parents died. He never really got a chance to go through the mail.

“How on earth are they able to get into the house?” he asks.

“They are already in the house.”

Tony’s stomach turns and he twists the face the soldier. He’s still standing in the corner as he has been since they entered the room, but it’s the first word the man has spoken for three hours. It’s surprisingly comforting despite what the word means.

“There’s a traitor in my house?” Tony asks.

The Soldier is silent again, but Tony doesn’t really need him to say anything else. That news alone is shattering, and there’s so little he can do to quell the rising fear that everyone in the house is either in danger or _a_ danger.

Tony guesses that it makes sense that they were able to get him, and even kidnap Dum-E. He’s not entirely sure _why_ his robot is with him, but maybe it’s someone close enough to him that they know Dum-E is a calming presence. Not that it makes it easier to deal with, maybe it actually makes it worse. It’s almost as if they’re saying they care.

“Ok. I’m going to need you for some heavy lifting, Buckaroo,” Tony says.

The Soldier nods, and Tony gets to work.

 

It’s eight hours later that Tony is staring at the new element. Even Bucky, who’s face never seems to be more expressive than being simply impassive, appears mildly impressed. Swallowing past the nervous lump in his throat, Tony pulls out his Arc Reactor. The pain is immediate, but he quickly swaps out of the burnt palladium core for the new core.

The moment the reactor is back in his chest, he heaves a massive sigh and collapses into one of the workshop stools. Bucky seems to reach out for him but thinks better of it soon after.

“Tastes like coconut,” Tony whispers faintly. “Huh.”

After everything, after the months of pain, the threat of death, the loss of his parents, there’s a strange sense of guilt that comes with not having to worry about that anymore. He was supposed to fix that with his father, and now he’s had to do it in the basement workshop of a long-thought-dead evil agency.

“What exactly am I supposed to do now?” Tony asks.

“We want you to design smart weapons, Anthony,” a voice says over the speakers. “We will call it Project Insight, and it will be able to locate and terminate people from helicarriers across the world.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Forgotten already, have we?”

Tony trembles as he realizes what they’re saying.

But he can’t. He can’t build that for them. He can’t put other people’s lives in danger.

“Hesitation will cost you dearly,” he’s warned.

Tony nods. He moves over to the worktable and starts to make plans, hoping to appease the voice in the ceiling. Obviously, he doesn’t intend to build them anything, but he needs to buy time and he can’t do that while being viciously tortured.

“Good boy.”

Tony cringes and then yelps as Dum-E rams into his leg, almost knocking him over.

“What the hell, Dum-E!”

The bot does it again, and Tony has to step out of the way. Dum-E crashes into the table, and Tony kneels in front of him, checking him over to ensure he’s not hurt.

“What’s up, boy?” he asks, as though the robot were a puppy.

It’s then that Tony notices one of the metal panels on Dum-E’s torso has been knocked loose and inside he can see a little flutter of paper. Tony is subtle as he pulls it out and reads it.

 

“We’re coming to save you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best readers!


	27. Chapter 27

Tony stares at the little note for too long, trying to hit yew it out and what it means. When he feels the solider creeping up behind him, obviously suspicious, he stuffs the note back where he found it and jumps up, rocking back on his heels, and turning to the workshop table.

  
His neck prickles with the proximity of the Soldier, but he actively ignores it in favour of considering the possibilities of the notes author.

  
Who could possibly have gotten it to him? Someone who knew Dum-E was going to be taken the same day Tony was? Who could have been privy to that information? And why would they let him get taken if they intended to save him anyway? None of it makes any sense to him, and the frustration leaves him restless. He needs something to do with his hands.

  
His hands move, pulling forward a sheet of graphing paper and several pencils. He aches for the cool familiarity of the holo-screens in his own lab and Y.I.N.S.E.N., but he knows that he has to settle for what he can get, and unfortunately that seems to be a dated computer with a grainy monitor and a silent babysitter. The computer is not even connected to the internet, so he can’t look at memes when he gets bored. What’s the point?  
Tony doesn’t have any plans to actually build anything for these creeps, but if he continues to do nothing at all, he’ll simply earn himself a ticket back onto that chair and he doesn’t want to risk the damage to his mind.

  
He starts to sketch something resembling a missile, though he doesn’t bother including anything beyond the shell. As ling as it looks like he’s doing something, he can wait to be rescued or he can start planning his escape without it looking suspicious.

  
Tony sneaks a glance at the Soldier. His mind is still struggling to accept that it’s Bucky, which isn’t exactly a surprise, but he’s so caught up in it, so completely confused by what he’s seeing and what he wants to see, that he doesn’t even realise that he’s not done any work for almost five minutes.

  
“Bring him.”

  
Ice trickles into his blood stream as the Soldier grabs him around the waist and starts to haul him out of the workshop.  
Tony screams and pleads with them, promising that he was just distracted, but it either falls on deaf ears or the ears are simply enjoying the raw fear he’s expressing.

  
“Please!” he croaks, as the straps are tightened over his wrists. “I was working, please, I just lost concentration for a minute.”

  
“We don’t tolerate wasting time, boy,” the man hisses, and it’s such an Obie thing to say that Tony violently flinches in the chair.

  
The mouthpiece is pushed into his mouth and the band is snapped onto his head.  
The Soldier steps back and Tony instantly falls into fits of screaming, his terror filling the room as he’s given shock after shock after shock. Just when he thinks they’re finally going to relent, he’s hit with another wave, lasting longer than the one before, and it crushes him under the weight of it.

  
When he’s let out of the chair, he’s unable to stand, and he can’t feel anything beyond the pain. It’s as though his every nerve has been burned and numbed. The Soldier takes him, lifts him into his arms, and carries him back to the workshop.

  
“Bucky,” Tony gurgles, unable to focus. “Buck.”

  
The Solider’s face performs a pantomime, shifting between micro expressions and an empty look. Tony isn’t sure if his addled mind is making him see things or if he’s maybe thinning the area between his memory and his conditioning.

  
A blast to the side catches Tony’s attention, but he can’t really understand what’s happening. There’s a lot of shouting, and his body is held a little closer to Bucky’s when the shouting gets closer.

  
Tony hears voices, some of which might even be familiar, but it’s as though they’re filtering through a broken speaker. Tony simply can’t make any sense of it. He knows he should use the distraction to try and escape, but he’s too weak.

  
There’s another loud crash and then Tony falls asleep.

 

 

It’s several hours later that Tony wakes up feeling frazzled. It’s so much worse than the first time, and he suspects that they may have let the torture go on for a little longer than they should have.

  
He begins to panic, wondering whether this failure on their part will have a detrimental impact on his cognitive abilities. He’s not sure he can handle being reduced to less than a genius. He’s built his entire image on this, his entire being is based around it. He’s famous for being the genius son of a genius. Beyond that, who is he supposed to be?

  
“You’re awake.”

  
Tony’s eyes fly open and he twists quickly to stare at Steve who is stood by the door.

  
“Tony.”

  
“Where am I?” Tony asks.

  
Then he sits up, so quick that he gives himself whiplash, and he stares around the room.

  
“Where’s Dum-E— wait! Where’s Bucky?”  
Steve’s head cocks to the side in confusion, and Tony feels an incredulous desire to laugh despite there being nothing funny about the situation.

  
“They really messed with your head,” Steve mutters sympathetically.

  
“No, no, Steve, he was there! Honest to god, Bucky was there, but he didn’t remember who he was because they’d been brainwashing him and messing with his head and torturing him, but it was him, Steve, I swear, and— and we need to go back! We need to find him!” Tony starts climbing from the bed, putting off the heart monitor and the saline solution. “Come on, I’ll show you, we should go soon though? Before they take him and hide him and we can’t find him again!”

  
Steve looks completely perplexed, but he manages to gather some of his senses, enough that he steps in front of Tony as he tries to leave the room.

  
“Tony, come on, you’re not making any sense. I should get a doctor or something. You need help.”

  
“No Steve, Bucky does!”

  
“What’s going on in here?”

  
Clint steps into the room, and Natasha follows shorty after.

  
“Tony, kid, what’re you doing outta bed?” Clint asks, taking Tony by the arm to gently lead him back.

  
“No!” Tony shouts, pulling away from him and backing up against the wall. “We need to save Bucky!”

  
Clint and Natasha fall silent, but Steve continues to look like a fish out of water, flailing in the face of Tony’s apparent delusion that his best friend who died seventy years previously is still alive and working against his will for Hydra.

  
“I knew it.”

  
Steve makes a wounded sound as he turns to Natasha.

  
“I’m sorry Steve, I didn’t want to say anything but SHEILD has had its suspicions for a while now. When we were rescuing Tony, he was in the arms of a man I once knew from… my youth. He hadn’t aged a day, and I knew who he was then. Howard has a picture of the two of you in his office.”

  
Steve laughs, and it’s an awkward sound, bordering hysteria. He looks to Clint, as if hoping the man would deny that claims, but Clint is already on his phone talking to a man named Coulson.

  
Tony watches everything playing out in front of him, waiting for something that tells him what he can do to help.

  
It’s then that Jarvis steps into the room and rushes to Tony, pulling him right into his arms.

  
“Oh, Anthony, we worried for you terribly.”

  
Tony wraps his arms around Jarvis and relaxes into the mans chest.

  
“Oh, also, someone called Bruce Banner is waiting for you, Miss Romanov.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best writing, but I tired!


	28. Chapter 28

Steve is understandably a little messed up right now. After Tony was ushered back into bed by Jarvis, Steve sat in the corner of the room and began staring at the wall, his eyes far away. Tony has no way to comfort him, and he even asks Jarvis for advice on what to say, but Jarvis said that Steve likely needs to process this alone. Tony knew to respect that, because Jarvis knows more than he ever will about making people feel better about things.

Tony is also trying not to focus too much on the fact that Doctor Banner is in the same building that he’s in. Bruce _Goddamn_ Banner. The man has, like, three PHD’s and a master’s degree. He’s everything Tony has ever aspired to be, well educated and passionate about his work, too. He reminds him a lot of Howard, who Tony has always known he wanted to grow up to be. In fact, Tony’s dad had often been found reading the man’s work on gamma radiation even when it wasn’t relevant to the topic he was working on.

Tony wants to ask what the genius is doing in the building, and he extra wants to know if the rumours about his… affliction… is true. There was an incident in Harlem several years ago that was as covered up as something could be when it’s caught on countless smartphones. From the shaky footage, Tony had seen a large green monster man tearing through buildings and fighting against the military. The press, however, had seemed ridiculously limited on what they reported, and even the blogs producing speculative theories were all disabled in the aftermath of the event.

Having had little patience for mysteries he knew he could solve, Tony, only eight at the time, had thrown himself onto the nearest computer to hack his way into the military database and burrowed his curiosity beneath the firewalls, digging deeper than ninety percent of the military are permitted to go.

He’d been understandably surprised to find accusations that the famous Doctor Banner had been caught in an unfortunate accident trying to recreate the Super Soldier Serum. As a result, his entire anatomy could shift from an influx of epinephrine. It was as fascinating as it was terrifying.

Tony’s dad had caught him snooping, but far from chastising him for his illegal activities, Howard had quickly been drawn into the report, pulling Tony onto his lap so they could read it together. They’d discussed it for hours until Maria had demanded they show up for dinner and put the conversation to the side so that she could prepare them for their holiday.

“We’re not talking about human experimentation when we’re due to leave for Europe in twelve hours,” she had admonished.

That night, Howard had put Tony to bed under the pretence of reading him a bedtime story, but instead, they had continued their theorising. It would have gone on all night if Tony hadn’t fallen asleep face-first on the bed.

Thinking about that momentarily distracts Tony from his situation, and he smiles a sad smile at the thought of his parents. What he wouldn’t give to have that again. He would die a thousand painful deaths just to have another hour with his parents, just to get to talk and fall asleep listening to them bicker pleasantly about silly things. He wishes desperately that he had another chance to tell them he loved them and to hear them say it back.

Tony has to think extra hard about not crying, so he seeks out another distraction. Steve, still sat in the corner of the room, seems incredibly lost in his own thoughts. Jarvis had left briefly to collect some of Tony’s things to keep him entertained while he was stuck in medical, so Tony’s only immediate obstacle is getting past the super-soldier.

In theory, it should be incredibly difficult to do. The man has super hearing, inhuman reflexes and is a military man. Nothing should get passed him, especially not a twelve-year-old who’s on a bed directly opposite him. However, circumstances change, and if Tony is correct in his suspicions, then Steve won’t notice he’s gone for a few hours.

Quietly and slowly swinging his legs over the side of the chair, Tony slips from the bed. He pulls the rolling IV alongside him and switches off the heart monitor. He doesn’t need it. Steve doesn’t so much as look up at the movement, nor does he twitch when Tony leaves the room. Tony feels bad that the man is suffering enough to not even notice him leaving, but he tries not to focus too intently on that part.

Sneaking into the hallway, he looks around to ensure no one is about to destroy his plans of escaping and finding the doctor. It’s blissfully empty, and he immediately heads towards the elevator, pressing the button for the lab floor. He can only assume that’s where the man would be, though he’s ready to go on a full-blown search of the entire building if he needs to.

Fortunately, Tony was right. Doctor Banner is in the guest lab, the one Howard built for when he had other scientists over for collaborations but didn’t quite trust them in his actual workshop. Unfortunately, Clint and Natasha are in there too. The opening of the elevator door, even when there is a glass wall between Tony and the others, is enough to draw their attention.

Tony tries to duck and hide, but he’s busted almost immediately.

“Anthony, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

Tony squeaks when Natasha comes to stand over him where he’s huddled into himself behind the frosty bit of glass at the bottom of the wall.

“Um, I… uh, dropped my… my pen?”

Natasha’s eyebrow quirks and Tony bites his lip, not sure what the result of lying to a badass superspy will be. He can hear Clint snickering across the room, and Natasha shakes her head and offers Tony her hand.

“Come on, brat.”

Tony is relieved to hear that she doesn’t sound angry at all, and he quickly accepts the hand that gently pulls him to his feet. He looks over and finds Doctor Banner looking at him with a bemused expression.

“Hi,” Tony whispers anxiously.

“Hello.”

Natasha doesn’t relent her hold on his hand and she leads him over to where Doctor Banner and Clint are standing.

“You must be Anthony?” Banner says somewhat awkwardly.

Tony nods, suddenly incapable of speaking, and he accidentally squeezes Natasha’s hand a little too tightly.

“Are you nervous?” she asks, the traitor.

“No,” Tony scowls.

Natasha snorts indelicately.

“You shouldn’t be. Doctor Banner isn’t scary.”

Now it’s Doctor Banner who snorts.

“I don’t think you’re scary, sir,” Tony promises. “I think it’s cool that you turn into a giant rage monster. And I loved your work on antielectron collisions. It’s unparalleled. My dad…” Tony’s voice breaks momentarily before he’s able to stop it, “my dad read it to me when I was having trouble sleeping.”

Banner looks hilariously nonplussed by this, and Natasha extracts her hand and puts it on his shoulder and squeezes.

“Your dad read his work as a bedtime story?” Clint asks.

“Yeah! He did it all the time. I got bored with all the other books, so he used to bring all the latest scientific papers and read them to me.”

Tony realises he’s gushing a little and blushes deeply.

“That’s the most precious thing I’ve ever heard,” Clint says. “You’re the cutest kid I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

Tony grumbles when Clint ruffles his hair. He can’t be treated like a kid while Banner is here! He doesn’t want the man to think he’s some baby that can’t look after himself and needs to be coddled. He rushes to flatten his hair back down, but the action jerks the IV line from his arm, and Tony hisses in pain.

The banner is in his space in seconds, holding a clean cloth to the small bubbling of blood, and leads him towards the bench and pushes him down.

“I don’t think you need this any more now that you’re awake,” Banner explains as he cleans the area and applies a band-aid. “How do you feel, by the way?”

“Embarrassed,” Tony mutters.

Banner cocks a smile at him.

“I mean, physically. Are you in any pain? Your, uh, team told me some of what happened.”

Tony sends an accusatory glare at Clint and Nat, both of whom simply smirks at him as if daring him to voice his displeasure.

“I feel a little… buzzy, I guess,” Tony shrugs. “I mean, I _was_ electrocuted for a long time. My head feels a little… disconnected. I think that’s what they were aiming for. That’s what they’d done to Mr Barnes. They managed to completely erase his mind, and they used it on me to try and make me do what they wanted. I’m not stupid now though!” he hurries to say. “I’m still… I’m not stupid.”

“I wouldn’t dare accuse you of that,” Banner says, looking a little sickly after hearing Tony talk.

“Other than that, I feel fine.”

“Well, we should probably eat,” Clint says.

“Agreed,” Banner says. “You still have some nutrients to replenish, Tony, and it’s better if you get them in you naturally.”

Tony nods.

“And then after, we can see about this Loki situation.”

“Loki? Who’s Loki?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally making our way into some real IronMan action!!!


	29. Chapter 29

Tony eats his food slowly. It’s not because he’s not hungry, he’s actually ravenous, but he’s also staring at Doctor Banner in awe and trying not to squirm from the tension in the room. Clint and Natasha are having a conversation under their breath, and they both look deeply uncomfortable, nervous even. Tony desperately wants to know why but isn’t sure how to ask. They don’t seem like the type to scare easy, so something has gotta give.

Doctor Banner, on the other hand, seems like he might bolt any second. He’s caught between working closely with a stark tab and looking at Tony, Clint and Nat like something bad might happen. Tony wonders if Banner thinks that the green thing will come out and kill them all. It’s probably not the most ridiculous thing to worry over, but it makes Tony sad to think that he’s cautious enough to think it.

“So… who’s Loki?” Tony finally asks, unable to keep himself silent for much longer.

Natasha sighs and leans out of her and Clint’s huddle. Clint runs a hand through his spiked blonde hair and shrugs.

“We’re not entirely sure. We only know that he’s taken a man, Erik Selvig—”

“The astrophysicist?”

“The exact same one. They’ve taken him, and now they’re hunting down materials. We’re not sure what for yet.”

“How did they get him?”

Clint and Natasha share a look, in which they have a minute conversation. Clearly they’re wondering whether to withhold some delicate information, but they eventually make a decision.

“The Tesseract, the thing that Cap lost in the ocean, has recently found it’s way back into S.H.I.E.L.D hands and Erik was called in to study it. Apparently it got explosive last night, and Loki stepped through, fought with everyone and got his greasy haired fingers into the mind of Selvig. He’s somehow got mind control powers. Anyway, the building went kaboom and now there’s a madman on the loose. I was actually supposed to be there today, but I didn’t want to leave while… well, while you were still recovering.”

“I’m touched, Clint. I never knew you cared.”

“Shuddup, small spice.”

Tony grins, but decides to backtrack through the conversation to find the most important information.

“What kind of materials are they getting? It might give us a clue about what they’re trying to put together.”

This line of conversation, Tony notes, interests Doctor Banner enough to put the tablet down and look up properly with undivided attention.

“Well,” Natasha begins, “the first thing he’s looking for is iridium. I can’t imagine why though.”

“It’s a stabilising agent,” Tony says.

Doctor Banner blinks, and then smiles.

“Of course.”

Tony feels pride burst in his chest, just like when his father would brag about Tony’s inventions, even when they were stupid toys. He prays he isn’t blushing, cause he doesn’t want to look like an idiot.

“But for what?” Tony ventures, reaching out for answers.

The answer comes from a surprising source.

“A portal.”

Tony almost falls out of his seat in shock at sudden appearance of a man with blonde hair and frankly ridiculous muscles. He walks into the room calmly and with regal purpose, which Tony thinks is kinda rude since this isn’t his home. He’s walking alongside another man, a bald man with a suit on. Did Jarvis let them in?

Natasha and Clint don’t bat an eyelash, but Tony has already leapt up from his seat to hide behind them, and Doctor Banner has stood up, distrustfully eyeing up the newcomers. Clint, who Tony has chosen to duck behind, sits up a little straighter, and Tony can tell it’s not for anyone else’s benefit.

“Apologies for the sudden intrusion,” the bald man says. “But Thor here can offer a unique insight into the situation.”

“Thor?” Tony breathes, staring wide-eyed at them both from around Clint’s arm. “Like, from the books?”

“The exact same,” Baldy says with a wry smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“Back to ‘unique insight’; Can I assume that if you’re Thor, then Loki is your brother?”

“Indeed.”

“No way!” Tony whispers. “Loki, as in _Loki_ Loki?”

“I do not understand the question,” Thor says.

Clint chuckles and twists in his seat to look at Tony who has half hidden himself behind the archer.

“Can’t be shy when you’re fanboying this hard,” Clint grins.

Thor seems completely lost on the interaction, but at Coulson’s urging, he steps further forward and begins to explain what he knows.

“My brother means to build a portal using the Tesseract. He intends to take your planet as his own, and he will do that using an army called the Chitauri. They are not from Asgard, or from anywhere known, and he will win the earth with them.”

“An army? From outer space?” Clint asks, looking sickly. “Coulson, for real?”

The Bald Man, Coulson, nods, looking just as unhappy as Clint does. Natasha has no outward reaction to it, but Tony is sure that inside she’s screaming. Coulson that opens his briefcase and lays several files on the table.

“I was hoping that maybe you could take a look at this, Doctor Banner. Any idea’s you have, maybe a way to locate the tesseract, would be invaluable. In the meantime, we need all our heavy hitters on this. Loki could show up at any time and put numerous lives in danger. Is… Is Captain America around?”

A faint blush marks Coulson’s cheek, and Tony snickers and then squeals when Clint tickles his ribs.

“Leave his man crush alone, Tones. And yeah, he’s around somewhere. He’s having a hard time processing the Barnes situation.”

Tony pouts and moves out of arms reach so that Clint can’t attack him again.

“Who is the child?” Thor asks, looking curiously at Tony.

“I’m not a child,” Tony says, immediately defensive.

“You’re twelve years old, Tony, you’re a child by every definition of the word.”

Tony frowns and moves even further away from Clint, who he had once hoped would be on his side, but obviously they’re not the friends he thought they were.

“Traitor,” he hisses. He raises his voice. “I’m Anthony Stark.”

“I am Thor Odinson, of Asgard. It is an honour to meet you, child.”

Tony stares. Is the man joking? Did he need to divulge so much information? Should Tony have done the same thing?

“OK.”

Damn, he wishes he’d mentioned he was his dad’s son. He didn’t know that was part of the introduction standards, and to be fair, most people know that already. Most people from earth at least.

“Anyway, we should try and contact this suit of armour guy,” Clint says, eying Tony with a knowing smirk. “The dude that saved the _child’s_ life.”

“Stop it or I’ll make the wifi in your room super slow,” Tony warns.

In his mind though, he’s wondering how he’s supposed to play this. Obviously, if they truly think he’s a child, they’ll never allow him to wear the suit. Worse, they might take it away and give it to someone else, and Tony doesn’t want that kind of power in other peoples hands. Power turns people sick, mutilates their minds and drives them to horrific actions.

No. It must remain a secret, and he’s just gonna have to work with it. Loads of people have secret identities, so it’s not going to be that hard.

“We have no way of contacting him,” Coulson admits.

“Tony probably does, though, right?” Natasha asks.

Tony flounders for a second. Does he say yes? Does he admit that he can contact the Man in the Suit of Amour and risk them trying to exploit that, or does he lie and say no? He wants to be part of this, since it sounds dangerous, and he doesn’t want his new friends to get hurt, but he also doesn’t want to risk revealing his identity.

“I can try, but I can’t make promises.”

Coulson nods, accepting it at face-value.

“Do what you can, and we’ll form a plan in the aftermath. For now, can someone check on Captain America, and Bruce, could you take a look?” Coulson asks, signalling to the manila folders.

“Can I too?” Tony asks.

Coulson smiles, and it’s painfully indulgent. He either doesn’t know of Tony’s genius or he’s vastly underestimating just how far it can go.

“Sure, kid. Knock yourself out.”

Tony beams and turns to Bruce.

“Wanna see my workshop?

The smile Bruce replies with is soft, but Tony takes it as a yes. He grabs the folders, a juice box from the fridge and rushes downstairs, knowing that if Bruce can’t keep up, Yin will show him the way.

Finally, someone to science with.

 


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

 

Bruce appears in Tony’s workshop exactly seven minutes later, but that was enough time for Tony to worry that maybe he wasn’t going to show at all. It was enough time for his insecurities to shine through, to worry that maybe Bruce didn’t think anything of him except that he was a stupid kid. That maybe he thought Tony couldn’t have anything of worth to add to the conversation. It was also enough time for him to read through the folder and get a good grasp of the problem and how they could discuss fixing it.

When Bruce did finally show up, though, Tony struggled to keep his relief subtle. Bruce, for his part, seems overly interested in health and safety procedures, and no attempts at distraction will make him stop. Howard could be drawn into another conversation and Tony could avoid wearing stupid gloves.

“We’re not debating this, you’re either wearing the safety gear or we’re leaving the lab.”

“But we’re not even doing anything yet!” Tony argues.

“But we likely will be. How often do you work in the lab without gloves on?”

“Can’t I put them on later?” he asks, trying to delay what appears to be inevitable.

“I’m guessing you never wear them then?” Bruce counters, looking at Tony’s hands with a scrutiny Tony wishes he’d put away.

Deciding that the answer—which is a solid No—won’t do much, Tony relents and searches for a pair of gloves to pull on and suffers the indignity of not being allowed to touch anything with his bare hands. Bruce does the same, and Tony flexes his fingers with a grimace. Having the gloves there feels weird and alien, and it’s almost enough to make him wish he’d not invited Bruce into his lab at all.

That is, until they started talking.

It’s so _good_ to talk to someone who really knows their stuff, and there’s not a hint of condescension in his tone. Bruce clearly respects Tony’s contribution, and they enter a kind of bubble of talking within two minutes of the discussion starting.

But within three minutes into the conversation, Tony starts to cry. It’s a hopeless, heartbreaking kind of crying, the sobs hurting with each burst. Tony can’t figure out what’s started him off, and he definitely can’t turn it off.

Bruce is completely flummoxed, and before Tony can gasp out a plea for Bruce not to, he’s employed the help of Yin to call someone in to help Tony out. It’s humiliating, and Tony wants the ground to swallow him up, but he simply can’t shut if off. He’s sobbing uncontrollably and can’t explain why.

The lab door opens and Tony watches through watery eyes as Clint comes running in, panicked. When he spots Tony, his fear softens into understanding, and he slowly walks forward and drops to his knees in front of Tony’s stool.

He doesn’t say a word at first, simply opening his arms for Tony to fall into. Shamefully tucking his face into Clint’s shoulder, he soaks the shirt with his tears while Bruce stands a few feet away, looking confused and guilty.

“I’m not… I don’t know what I did.”

Tony can’t find the energy to lift his head, but he mumbles into Clint’s shirt.

“What was that, dude?” Clint asks.

“I said, it’s not your fault Bruce,” Tony says, breath hitching. “You just… reminded me… dad.”

Tony falls into another bout of uncontrollably crying, and Clint rubs a hand up and down his back, muttering soft assurances.

His face burning with complete and utter embarrassment, Tony finally pulls himself together enough to push away from Clint.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, before quickly rushing from the room, refusing to look back.

He ignores the calls of his name, both from Clint and Bruce. They have a threat to deal with, a threat from a _literal God,_ so he can’t allow himself to act a hindrance of that. Besides, he needs to be on his own right now. When his parents were alive, he would go to them for comfort if he ever cried, and now he doesn’t really have that anymore. He needs to learn how to deal with his shaky emotional state on his own, rather than be a burden on other people.

The instant he’s in his room, he burrows under his duvet and the tears begin again without the reluctance he wishes they would feel.

It’s just, he’s never felt so comfortable in his lab with anyone other than his dad before. Even with Jarvis, his mother, or Obie (before he turned and tried to have Tony killed), he always felt awkward in the lab, like he had to slow down to accommodate them.

With his father, it was easy. It was simple, and they worked together like a well-oiled machine. As Tony grew older, his father had to explain less and listen more, and he always praised Tony on his advancements without it impeding on their work. It was perfect.

To start talking to Bruce and feel a shimmer of the same ease scared Tony as much as it did fill him with grief. He’d hate to even for a second feel as though he were replacing his father, and he suddenly couldn’t cope with the emotions. He’d never call himself emotionally repressed, but he usually had a better handle on his tears. To break down in front of a hero of his is something he may never live down.

Maybe he should move permanently into his bedroom. Have Yinsen order a little kitchenette and install it by the window. He could probably use the empty closet space as a stand-in workshop. He has everything else he could ever need right here.

It’s a feasible plan, and it means he never has to cope with the humiliation of seeing Clint and Bruce again, especially if they’re going to be staying at the mansion in the long term. Yeah, it’s best for everyone if he just –

“Tony, I’m coming in.”

Tony cries out in alarm as the door opens and Clint comes in, looking solemn.

“You OK kid?”

“Fine,” he says, hastily wiping away the new tears. “Just planning on moving into my room and never leaving again ever.”

Clint snorts out a laugh and shakes his head, all the while making himself comfortable on Tony’s bed. He picks up a well-worn Bucky Bear –the one his father had bought him the day he was born— and places it on his own lap, fingers running over the matted fur with a nostalgic smile.

“I always wanted one of these as a kid. When I… when I was in the circus, the captain was a bit of an ass, but for my fifteenth birthday, he bought me one after hearing me talk about it. I used to carry it with me everywhere— hidden, of course— but I loved the thing. When I was twenty-four, S.H.I.E.L.D found me, offered me a second chance. I’d done some things with the circus that I’m not proud of, specifically criminal things. I had to put the bear away for good, because although it represented something that I’d always yearned for, it also came with a price, and the memories it toted with it… they weren’t worth hanging around with.”

Tony isn’t sure what that is supposed to mean, or if there’s a lesson in there to be learned. He doesn’t have the nerve to ask, and Clint finally breathes out a heavy breath.

“It’s not exactly related to what I was saying, but I guess I just want you to know that I understand. It’s hard to move on, and harder to leave the best parts of our lives behind when we have to, rather than by choice. It’s OK to cry. It’s OK to miss your parents. But don’t hide yourself away from us. Bruce doesn’t judge you for crying, I promise you that, but he is worried.”

“He shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t he be? You’ve just admitted that you intend to move into your bedroom.”

Tony shrugs, unsure of where the conversation can go from there. The faint burn of mortification lingers, but just talking to Clint is helping to ease it.

“Come down for a snack when you’re ready OK? I have to leave in two hours for a recon mission, and I can’t say when I’ll be back.”

“Scared you’ll miss me?” Tony asks with a cocky smile.

Clint leans over and ruffles his hair, ignoring the cries of indignation.

“I’m more scared you’ll hole yourself away in my absence.”

With that, Clint jumps up from the bed, handing the Bucky Bear over to Tony. He waves a silent goodbye and leaves the room.

“Yin?” Tony calls once the door is closed.

“Yes, Anthony?”

“Could you order an extra Bucky Bear? For Clint. Also, apologize to Dr Banner for me.”

“Of course.”

Tony might not be completely over his breakdown, but he’s content enough that he won’t be moving an oven into his bedroom any time soon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to google what a Bucky Bear was cause they always seem to make an appearance in these fics. To be fair, I have to google a lot of stuff when reading fics, because a lot of it is very American and completely lost on me.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this chapter!


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t look so worried, kid. It’s only a crazed Asgardian. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Chapter 31

Tony fights against the blush that is warming his cheeks as he heads downstairs an hour later. He doesn’t really want to show his face, but he knows that not doing so would leave him stuck in his room forever. As much as he may have considered it briefly, he’s sure it would get boring.  When he steps into the room, he sees Bruce sat at the table with Coulson, Thor, Clint and Natasha. They all turn as he steps into the kitchen and smile at him warmly. There isn’t an ounce of judgement among them, and some of the worries melt away.

“Hey,” he says, trying for casual, “what’s up?”

Clint snorts into his drink and his eyes meet Tony’s, filled with mirth. Tony shifts from one foot to another, feeling more awkward than he did when he was trying to convince himself to go downstairs.

“Are you hungry?” Bruce asks, gesturing towards the fridge. “I can make you something if you want?”

“Uh, you don’t have to do that, Dr Banner,” Tony stumbles over the words.

“That sounds like a ‘Yes, I’m hungry’ if I’ve ever heard one,” Natasha says with a sly smile.

“Also, I’m starved.”

“You ate two hours ago,” Nat reminds him.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be hungry now.”

“You’re impossible.”

Clint’s only reply is a smirk and a shrug. He gestures for Tony to come to sit at the table, and he does, slowly, worried that he and Nat might start brawling. From the unimpressed look on Nat’s face, it’s not something she _isn’t_ considering.

Tony isn’t sure if he is hungry, but his stomach makes a weird noise, and it makes that decision for him. Bruce gives him a knowing smile, and Tony’s cheeks colour again.

“You came just in time. Agent Coulson is about to take me away,” Clint tells him with a dramatic shiver.

“How long will you be gone?”

“There’s no way to know. Hopefully soon, possibly later.”

Tony isn’t sure why anxiety settles in his stomach so heavily at the idea. He doesn’t want to tell Clint that he doesn’t want him to leave, but that’s exactly what he wants to say. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he leaves, and Tony never gets to give him the Bucky Bear? What if Clint doesn’t _want_ to come back? Tony hardly left him with a good impression, considering the random bout of crying. He probably thinks Tony is a baby.

“Master Anthony.”

Tony turns, startled out of his thoughts, to find Jarvis and Steve coming into the kitchen. Steve looks decidedly pale, and Tony suddenly remembers what state he left Steve in earlier and immediately feels unending guilt. The man was clearly having a breakdown, and Tony snuck away.

Tony jumps up, not really sure what he’s doing.

“Captain Rogers, sir, are you OK?”

Steve turns to face Tony, frowning at the use of his title, and then closes the gap between them and buries his fingers in Tony’s hair and pulls him towards his chest. Tony flounders for a moment, not sure what to do, but then Steve is giving him a hug, and he hugs back. It’s nothing like the hugs his father used to give him, but it’s OK to pretend, he’s sure.

“I’m fine, Kiddo. Just… Jarvis tells me I might have been in shock. I wasn’t really thinking much beyond the fact that Bucky,” Steve chokes on the word, “that Bucky is still alive. But we have other issues to work with, I hear.”

Bruce is stood by the stove, watching the interaction with his eyebrows pinched in confusion. Tony isn’t sure what he should say, because it seems callous to talk about it in front of Steve, who is obviously having an issue with it.

“Turns out Bucky Barnes is actually a puppet for Hydra,” Clint says casually, filling him in. “Ow, crap, Nat. That hurt.”

“You have zero tact.”

Clint shrugs and then takes a swig of his coffee and winks at Tony.

“So, Master Anthony, what is this I hear about you sneaking out of your hospital bed?”

Tony ducks quickly away from Steve and squats behind the kitchen island. Jarvis’ disappointment is a force to be reckoned with, and he really doesn’t want to have to deal with it right now. Too much is going on for Tony to worry too much about his health. He spent years hiding burns and stuff away from his dad so that he wouldn’t be told to ‘rest up and heal’ before he gets to play in the labs again.

“Anthony.”

Tony looks up and grimaces when he sees Jarvis looking down at him. Jarvis kneels so that he’s closer to eye level and extends a hand.

“Come along. Let’s make sure you’re in full health.”

“But—”

“No buts, Anthony. You’re my first priority. If you’re sick or hurt, then it’s my job to care for you. It won’t take long, so you can come back and hang out with your friends again soon.”

Tony pouts, but Jarvis doesn’t take the bait. He takes the hand and slowly stands up and drags his feet as he follows Jarvis into his bedroom. Jarvis puts a thermometer in his mouth and waits, foot tapping on the floor until it beeps. Jarvis takes it out and considers it for a second.

“Well, your temperature is ok. Are you in any pain?”

Tony nods his head.

“Are you sure?”

Tony nods again.

“Let me check you over properly.”

Jarvis tenderly feels along Tony’s arm, checking to see if Tony winces at any point. Tony is used to the treatment after he fractured his arm and didn’t tell anyone. Howard was so worried he almost cried. He hadn’t understood why Tony didn’t tell anyone, and he made all of his staff take extensive first aid training just in case. Tony was watched like a hawk for _ages_ after that and when he showed even the slightest hint that he may not be feeling 100 % ended with him being crowded and their first aid training being used.

“Ok. You’re fine, but if you ever feel less than fine, you can let me know.”

“Of course.”

“Of course, my ass,” Jarvis says with a click on his tongue.

Tony grins widely. He loves it when Jarvis curses.

“Can I go back now?”

Jarvis inclines his head, and Tony jumps up and races back into the kitchen, followed by Jarvis, who’s pace is far more sedate. Bruce is serving up a large bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of toast by the time he’s sat down again. It looks and smells delicious, and Tony’s stomach grumbles again. Natasha is placing plates and cutlery down, enough for everyone to use.

“So, you’re like, Tony’s nanny, butler and doctor rolled into one, eh, Jarvis?” Clint asks through a mouthful of eggs.

“Only because his actual nannies weren’t up for the job. His last six quit from stress.”

Tony groans, burning red and scowling at Clint.

“I don’t _need_ a nanny. I’m twelve.”

“It’s cute you’re playing at being a big boy, kiddo, but you’re still a kid.”

Tony sticks his tongue out, offers his thanks to Bruce, and then tucks in. It tastes as good as it looks, and he barely slows down enough to breathe.

“Good to see you have an appetite,” Jarvis comments as he eats with considerably more manners. “Normally we have to drag him to the table. He gets so caught up in his games that he rarely remembers to go to the bathroom, let alone eat. Though, might I say that I’ve certainly taught you better than to eat like that. Please show some decorum.”

“ _Jarvis,_ stop,” Tony whines. “And I’m not playing _games,_ I’m inventing.”

He does, however, slow down and take his elbows from the table. Jarvis gives him a fond smile in acknowledgement.

“So, what’s the game plan for this Loki fella?” Steve asks.

Thor, who has been quiet for the most part (although he’s a disastrously loud eater), speaks up, addressing Steve with a sincere tone.

“My brother plans to invade the earth, and we plan to stop him.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “And you are?”

“I am Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard, brother of Loki.”

“Asgard?”

“Different planet,” Clint explains. “Space stuff.”

“Master Barton, please never talk with your mouthful again. It’s a ghastly sight.”

Natasha snickers and Clint appears appropriately chastised.

“I wouldn’t bother, Jarvis. I’ve been trying to teach Clint manners for years and have yet to yield results.”

“We shall see how I fare, Agent Coulson,” Jarvis winks. “I have lots of experience with unruly and uncivilised men. You should have seen how Howard behaved before I was able to teach him how to behave like a gentleman. It was unsightly.”

“Give me a break. I was _literally_ brought up in a circus.”

Agent Coulson rolls his eyes and then stands up, clearing away his and Clint’s plates. Clint reaches out, half a slice of toast in one hand.

“Hey, I haven’t finished!”

“You have. We have to go.”

Tony hadn’t realised how fast the time was going until Coulson mentioned it. Now, the nerves and anxiety are coupled with stress and Tony puts down his fork, not sure what he’s supposed to do. He kind of wants to grab Clint and beg him to stay, but he always wants them to know he’s practically a grown-up. He feels like he should act aloof and just wave him off.

Clint picks up on the emotions Tony is struggling to hide, and pulls him into a one-armed hug and offers him a lopsided grin.

“Don’t look so worried, kid. It’s only a crazed Asgardian. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger guys. I'll try to update soon.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hellicarrier nonsense
> 
> I had a day off at work today, so you've got a long-ass chapter.

Chapter 32

 

Tony is not happy.

He’s been sat at the kitchen island for three hours, reading about thermonuclear astrophysics with Dr Banner, neither moving much. That’s not the part he’s unhappy about. In fact, he’s thrilled that he and Bruce are having such an amazing back and forth with it; he’s not even cried this time! He couldn’t fault how much fun he’s having here, pouring over the provided material and bringing more up on a holographic screen projected from an amped-up stark pad. They’re filling in the blanks for each other, offering valuable insights and adding to the colour by numbers that is their collective understanding.

No. Tony’s unhappy because Coulson said that he won’t keep Tony up to date with Clint’s mission, and his attempt to hack into the comms system was immediately shut down by Bruce, who said something dull about ‘privacy’ and how ‘there will be things said over that system not meant for little ears’. If only they knew the language Howard used when he made a mistake or when he did something right (“Tony, your dad is a damn genius.” “Yeah, I think the world knows that already.” “They don’t know I’m this much of a fucking genius.”). Tony has to rid those thoughts quickly, though, because he always loved his dad swearing. He was so careful not to, but when he did, it meant that Tony was witnessing something amazing and his dad trusted him to keep that a little secret. He paid this trust back by almost never using those words himself.

“Anthony, how do you fare?”

Thor and Steve have been wandering around the house for a while. He hasn’t seen them since Clint left. From what Tony can gather, Steve gave Thor a tour and then sparred for a little while. They gave that up when one of the walls fell down. It was reinforced steel, so Tony is betting that _someone_ got a little hammer happy.

“I’m good, Mr Odinson. Dr Banner and I are just working. We think we’ve figured out what Loki is doing and how to find where the tesseract is!”

“Please call me Bruce,” Dr Banner begs for the tenth time.

“Good job!” Thor cries out.

Thor claps Tony on the back so hard he almost faceplants the table.

“I’m sorry, I do not know my own strength, and you’re so _tiny_.”

Tony immediately bristles at the comment, but before he can defend himself – he’s a growing boy, Howard and Jarvis have always assured him—Steve’s phone begins to ring. Tony watches him fumble with it, stare at it, and then figure out how to answer the call. He talks for a moment, face serious, and then hangs up.

“We’re needed. Tony, if you can contact the man in the suit for us, we’ll send you the coordinates.”

Tony nods.

“We’ll see you soon, OK?”

Tony nods again.

And then they all leave. Tony knows Jarvis is around somewhere, but with him not in the immediate vicinity, Tony could easily go to the lab and put his suit on and Jarvis would be none-the-wiser. It would probably only take a few hours, anyway, right?

Tony, feeling confident in his plan, rushes to his lab, blacks out the walls and lets the suit surround him. It feels horrible this time, and he has to push away the horror when he remembers what he saw the last time he was wearing it. Instead, he distracts himself by quickly messaging Steve, saying that the man in the suit was ready to offer his help. Seconds later, coordinates came through, and Tony was flying out over the city.

Apparently, their mission has taken them to Europe. It’s quite the distance, but from the short interaction he had with Steve over text, their mode of transport is quicker than a concord, and Tony knows his suit will get him there just as quickly.

It takes around two hours, but Tony finds himself flying over the border of Germany. He catches up with a familiar plane, the Quinjet, something he and his father designed, and just for fun, he hacks in and plays his favourite AD/DC song. He realizes a moment later that Nat, who he knows is onboard, might make a connection, but he waves it away. He needs entrance music. Besides, everyone loves classic rock.

He swoops down over a mass of kneeling people and rugby tackles a man with a stupid hat on and a weird green dress thing. He seems to have been shouting at an old man, something about nazis and blah blah blah.

“Man in the suit?”

Tony turns and gives Captain America a salute. The man then throws his shield at Loki as he tries to stand back up again.

“Just dropping by to offer my assistance,” Tony promises, his suit changing his voice to sound more grown-up.

“Thanks.”

Tony flips over in the air and comes to the ground next to Steve, hands raised and gauntlets whining in preparation. He feels intimidating, a genuine threat, and it’s a powerful adrenaline rush. Loki seems cowed by both Tony and Steve and puts his hands up in surrender. Steve steps forward and arrests him, and then leads him back towards the Quinjet. Tony follows after him, the rush sending blood to his ears. He was kind of expecting more from the confrontation.

“Is that it?” Tony asks. “You’re done?”

“We could use you,” the red-headed lady from the top of the S.H.E.I.L.D base says.

Tony looks around, wondering where Clint is. Hadn’t he gone in search of Loki? Shouldn’t he be here with the team? Tony pulls a face and figures that he’ll be back at the base.

“For what? Babysitting the psychopath?” Tony snarks. “I think you’ve got more than enough man-power here to help with that.”

“Have care how you speak. My brother may be beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother.”

“He just killed eighty people,” Nat reminds him.

Thor shifts from foot to foot.

“He is adopted,” Thor amends, awkwardly.

Loki glowers at him.

“Dear brother, I see you have enlisted the help of mortals to attempt to restrain me.”

“Attempt?” Tony snorts. “You realise you’re in handcuffs, right?”

Loki turns to face the suit, and for a horrifying moment, Tony is sure the man can see him through the helmet. His lips curl into a cruel smile.

“You believe what you wish.”

Tony frowns, but he doesn’t have much to offer. What does he even mean by that? Surely he can see that he’s incredibly outmatched and incapable of running away.

“I’ll meet you guys there,” Tony promises, stepping off the jet.

“You know where to go?” Hill asks, suspiciously.

“I don’t need to. I took the coordinates from your system. It’ll lead me in the right direction, I promise.”

With that, Tony takes to the air.

This might actually take a little longer than he suspected. He just hopes Jarvis isn’t looking for him.

 

He’s standing on big boat thingy. It’s like a floating airport, which is mad cool, and Tony wants nothing more than to explore every part of it. However, this becomes an impossibility when he’s suddenly surrounded by thirty men in bulletproof vests and uniforms, each holding a gun aimed at his chest. Tony would take a step back, but there’s nowhere to go. Heart racing, he lifts his arms.

“Woah, guys, I’m not attacking.”

“Step out of the suit!” one of them screams.

“No can do there, sir, as I’m actually a robot.”

The man looks suitably confused, and Tony snickers to himself. Any humour is quickly wiped away though, when they all begin advancing, closing in on Tony, and he has nowhere to go but up, but if he tries that, they could shoot him. While the suit is bulletproof, there’s a very real chance that several bullets against the Arc Reactor could kill him.

He also doesn’t want to concede and step out of the suit. While, at this point, he’s sure that no one would be too angry if they found out it was him, he’s also certain that he would never be allowed in it again. He doesn’t want to risk that.

So where is he supposed to go from there?

“Stand down.”

Instantly, every gun that was pointing toward Tony is lowered to the ground and the men disperse. Looking around, Tony spots a man in a long leather coat and an eyepatch. The man carries a presence as heavy as the world, and Tony immediately wants to do the opposite of everything this man has ever asked of him.

Years of teachers telling him to not be a know-it-all, and to do the work even though it was leagues behind him, followed with demands that Tony be quiet have given him quite the authority complex. He never told Howard, because he didn’t want to have to play the part of typical rich kid, but he hates people who assume they know better than him just because they hold any position of power or are older than him.

“You’re the man in the suit. Any chance you could tell me who you are?”

“Not a chance,” Tony spits back.

“Thought as much. Agent Hill has informed me of your help in Germany. Come inside for the debrief. The rest of the team should be here soon.”

Unsure as to whether it’s a trick or not, Tony is slow to follow. He doesn’t want to go inside, just to be attacked and forced to relinquish his suit. However, when no threats are immediately evident, he takes the risks and follows the man through the doors.

Inside, it’s dark and there are people running around. Most stop to stare at him as his heavy suit marches along, and the rest side-eye him curiously. He’s extra thankful for his identity being masked because he would hate for them to see him. He hates being the centre of attention.

It doesn’t take long to get to the end, but with the staring, it feels as though it’s taking an age. They finally appear in a large control room, where desks are lined up, each occupied by a person in a uniform.

“What is this place? It looks like something from Star Trek.”

“It’s a helicarrier. Our eyes in the sky.”

“You’re on the ocean,” Tony points out.

“Right now we are.”

Tony is about to question that very odd statement when suddenly there’s a bustle of activity that draws his focus from the weird meeting room with an audience to the actual audience.

“The team are on board,” a voice from below cries out.

The man gives Tony a look, one that promises something, and then gives a list of demands. Suddenly, the floor is shaking, and Tony is thinking _traptraptrap_ , until, from the wall of windows ahead of them, Tony is able to watch as the Helicarrier begins to fly, leaving the ocean behind and heading towards the clouds. It’s fast, and when the man in the eyepatch calls an order to ‘vanish’, Tony has an amazing feeling that they’re using reflective plates to hide themselves. He wants desperately to take the entire thing apart and figure out how it works, but he might just have to settle for asking for blueprints later.

“Impressive,” Tony compliments.

“Thanks.”

Tony turns as familiar voices appear and then grow louder behind him. Thor and Coulson are the first to come into view, followed by Agent Hill, Nat, Steve and then, trundling along and looking at everything with an interest that Tony feels, is Doctor Banner.

“Where’s the god?” Eyepatch asks as they take their places around the table in the centre of the podium area.

“He’s been appropriately detained,” Coulson informs.

Eyepatch nods and then takes his leave. Tony wants to follow, just so that he can investigate the place further, but he decides to stay put. He’s still not sure if he can trust Eyepatch, and he doesn’t want to prolong the time they spend together if he can help it. Instead, he stands to the side, close enough to the control panel that he can reach out and gain access remotely.

It’s a tough one to crack, much harder than the Quinjet, but once he’s in, he asks Yin to scour their systems to search for anything suspicious that might affect him or the team. While that’s happening, he listens into the conversation.

“Once we’ve got a trace on the tesseract, we can start putting an end to this. No invasion, no aliens, no nothing,” Bruce says.

“And how do you intend to do that?” Steve asks.

“Well, Tony and I were working on that before I left.” A strange look comes over Bruce now. “Brightest kid I’ve ever met in my life, I’ll tell you that. He’d be useful to have around here. Brighter than a lot of adults I’ve met if I’m honest. Howard truly raised quite the genius.”

“We’re not bringing him on the helicarrier,” Coulson says. “He’s a liability.”

“I trust him,” Bruce says.

“I don’t,” Steve counters.

Any elation Tony may have felt at Bruce’s praise is shut down immediately by Steve’s objection. He hadn’t expected that at all.

“He’s too young. He’s too curious. That is a dangerous combination. You can’t bring a child aboard a warship and expect him to stay safe, and we can’t spend all our time babysitting. We have more important things to be doing.”

“He doesn’t need to be babysat. He’s twelve, but he’s not incapable of caring for himself. He’d know not to touch anything he shouldn’t, and besides, he’d be at my side the entire time.”

“The answer is no,” Coulson says, ending the conversation.

Bruce doesn’t continue arguing, but he does look unimpressed. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall. Steve does not seem bothered by this in the slightest, and Tony wonders what he’s done to earn that opinion from Steve. Sure, he’s _technically_ a child, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be trusted.

“Whatever. Can we get to business? Is this everyone?” Tony calls out.

It’s possibly not the most subtle attempt to find out where Clint is, but they don’t know that he knows about him, so he’s comfortable asking.

“Yes, for now. One of our own was taken over by Loki.” Natasha looks down at the table.

“Taken over? What does that mean?”

“The mind stone is housed in Loki’s staff, he used it to take over the freewill of Eric Selvig and Clinton Barton. They are his, now, until we can force him to let go or learn how to free them ourselves.”

Tony’s blood runs cold. ‘What’s the worst that can happen,’ indeed.

“So, rescue mission?”

“First, we find the tesseract, second, we save Clint. One will lead to the other.”

Tony wants to argue this. Of course, the logic is there. Clint will be near the tesseract, but with every fibre of his being, he wants to go out there and find his friend and make sure he’s safe. He’s not sure how to argue that point though when the entire decision is emotional, and not strategical.

“Doctor Banner, perhaps you could make use of the labs?” Hill suggests.

Tony nods in Steve’s direction and then follows Bruce, ignoring the questioning looks. He doesn’t want to give himself any more chances to give himself away, and Bruce knows him the least.

“You know what you’re doing in there?” Hill asks as they enter the room.

“I’m smart enough to work my way around a lab,” Tony promises.

“As long as you don’t get in the way, then you’re free to offer any help you can.”

Tony feels at home in almost any lab he’s in. It’ll never be the same as his own, but it’s familiar ground for him.

“What’s the plan, Doctor Banner?”

“Please, call me Bruce. And the tesseract is mostly gamma radiation, which is my field of expertise. I can set up the software needed to trace it, but I’d have to call in some favours.”

“Do you have any to call in?”

Bruce gives him a wry smile.

“Enough.”

Tony takes his word for it and then projects a completion bar onto one of the screens. It’s about seventy percent complete, so he shouldn’t have to wait too long. He turns his attention to the sceptre that is held up on the table beside him.

“So, this is what Loki used to control people’s minds?” he asks. “How do we know it wasn’t used on him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just… what if someone used it on him, and made him use it on other people?”

“You’re siding with the criminal?”

Both Bruce and Tony look up as Steve comes into the room, wearing his Captain America suit, having not changed since Germany. Tony can’t help but feel frustrated at the intrusion, probably the aftermath of hearing the man admit that he didn’t trust Tony.

“No. But science demands we question everything. I don’t think it’s the most outlandish theory.”

Steve makes his way over to the staff, but he glances at the screen and stops dead.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That.”

Tony can’t feign ignorance any longer while the man is pointing a finger at it directly. He shrugs.

“I’m running a background search, no biggie.”

“No biggie? What are you searching for?”

Steve’s tone is really starting to piss Tony off.

“I’m looking into S.H.I.E.L.D. If I’m going to be working with them in any capacity, I intend to ensure I’m not helping them do something they shouldn’t be.”

Tony does _not_ want another Obie situation. When Howard found out what Obie had been doing, selling his weapons under the table, it took Howard a while to recover. Tony will not allow himself to fall into that trap again.

“You don’t trust them?” Steve asks.

Bruce is watching the interaction, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Tony can’t blame him. Steve is being an ass.

“Don’t trust someone who’s secrets have secrets.”

“Coming from the man who’s hiding behind a mask.”

“Excuse you, Spangles, but I’m not the one running a secret agency that has given itself the job of protecting the world. I’m just a dude looking to help. But if helping means building weapons of mass destruction, then I want nothing to do with it.”

Steve looks _pissed_ , but before he says anything else, he storms out of the room. Tony watches him go, letting the little pool of anger in the pit of his stomach drain.

“What an ass.”

Bruce says nothing, and Tony shrugs. Hopefully, they can get some cool secret agent science stuff done before Steve comes back to further rain on Tony’s good mood.

It goes pretty well until Steve returns with a large gun. For a terrifying moment, Tony genuinely thinks that Steve intends to shoot him. But Steve throws the weapon on the table, and at the same moment, eyepatch enters the room, dramatic leather jacket sweeping the floor.

“You’re making weapons with the tesseract,” Steve accuses. “Sorry,” he says towards Tony, “computer was moving a little slow for me.”

Tony moves around the table he’s at, intending to move towards Steve and eyepatch, but the computer lights up, and the progress bar is at 100%.

“Rogers, we gathered everything relating to the tesseract. That does not mean we’re making—”

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, turning the screen around to show the blueprints of a large weapon. “What were you lying?”

Suddenly, before Eyepatch can object, Nat and Thor enter the room together. Thor looks at them all with cold amusement, while Nat only has eyes for Bruce.

“Would you consider removing yourself from this environment, Doctor?” she says.

“I was in Calcutta. That’s pretty well removed.”

Things only descend into bickering from there, and Tony is pretty happy to stay out of it, but Steve, apparently, has different ideas.

After Eyepatch explains his reasons, ridiculous as they are, he hears the Stark name being dragged into it.

“I’m sure if Stark was still alive, he’d be neck-deep—”

“Don’t you dare talk like that about Howard Stark.”

Tony doesn’t mean to sound so menacing, and he suspects a lot of it are effects offered by Yin, but Steve’s eyes turn cold and hard.

“Howard built weapons that killed thousands.”

“Howard built weapons to protect thousands.”

“Why the objection here then, if you’re such a big fan of Mr Starks work?”

Suddenly, everyone is arguing, and Tony is facing off against Captain America, and he wishes he could just up and leave, but that small pool of anger is now a raging sea and he can’t do anything to calm it. He’s never felt like this before, uncontrollably furious, and while he knows that he should back down and tell everyone that they need to calm down, he can’t bring himself to do it.

“We’re a chemical mixture ready to explode,” Bruce explains. “We’re a ticking time bomb.”

“You,” Eyepatch warns, “need to step away.”

“Why shouldn’t the guy let off a little steam?” Tony calls into the chaos, throwing an arm on Steve’s shoulder.

“You know damn well why. Back off,” Steve says, throwing Tony’s arm off.

Though he fears the results of the confrontation, Tony can’t help but square himself up.

“I’m starting to want you to make me.”

“Take off the suit and what are you?” Steve challenges.

“Someone who will do whatever he can to keep the people of this city safe.”

“Then why the secrecy?” Steve asks, acidic words blurted with force meant to knock Tony off his feet.

“Why not?”

“You’re not worthy of this team. You’re just a man in a suit playing at being a hero.”

What the hell does Steve know? He’s only met Tony in the suit today. He has no idea what he’s talking about, and yet he sounds so much like he believes it that even Tony is questioning his own motives.

“What’s your game here, huh? Do Anthony Stark some favours and get in his good books? Maybe leech off of him, now that he’s vulnerable and alone?”

“Tony isn’t as easily swayed as you may think,” Tony argues back.

“You’re only in this for yourself. When it comes down to it, you wouldn’t watch our backs or lay down on the line.”

“I’d rather just cut it.”

Steve smiles, a horrible smirk that suggests he’s already won, but Tony can’t figure out what it means. He can’t even figure out why he’s still fighting. What are they even arguing about, because it seems as though Steve is on a different level to Tony.

“Always a way out,” Steve sneers.

Tony can’t think of a single thing wrong with that. Isn’t that part of being a genius? Knowing that nothing can keep him trapped? Being able to think his way out of every situation? Why is that something worthy of mockery?”

“You may not be a threat,” Rogers continues, “but you better stop pretending to be a hero.”

“A hero? Like you?” Tony snarls, words spilling out his mouth without even a second of thought. “You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.”

“Take off the suit, let’s go a few rounds.”

Thor’s laughter cuts through any response Tony could have mustered up in his haze of anger. He’s glad for the reprieve, taking a moment to breathe. Just breathe. Calm down.

“You people are so petty,” he says before adding an afterthought of, “and _Tiny._ ”

It’s such a throwback to earlier that day when they were just sitting around Tony’s kitchen, that he feels a little bit of sense trickle through. His head starts to pound, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Yeah, this is a team,” Banner scoffs.

“Agent Romanoff, could you escort Doctor Banner—”

“Where? You rented my room.”

“The cell was just a precaution.”

“It was designed to kill me, but you can’t. I tried.”

Tony barely hears the following conversation, having to struggle through whatever is messing with his head enough to make him feel as though he’s not really thinking clearly. He stumbles a little, immediately writes it off as dizziness, and holds onto the table for some stability.

“You’ve located the Tesseract?” Eyepatch says.

Tony looks up.

“I can get there faster.”

Tony makes a move to leave, but Steve grabs his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere alone.”

“Get off me,” Tony growls.

“Oh my god.”

Tony and Steve both look up as Banner starts to work at the screen, which seems to show that the tesseract is closer than they think.

Unfortunately, before anyone can really consider the implications of that, the helicarrier is suddenly blown up and the entire thing tilts onto its side.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's too much like the original. There are aspects of the story that I don't want to change too much, so I kept the bare bones.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

 

Tony doesn’t deal well with stress when he doesn’t have a supportive force behind him. Normally, if he were to struggle with something in the workshop, his dad would talk him down from his frustrations and walk through the process with him until he fully understood the implications of it all. If he were playing a game with Jarvis and couldn’t get his head around the rules, Jarvis would make sure Tony knew there was no pressure in getting it right the first time around. He’d remind Tony of all the times he felt this way, only to overcome the problem by the end of the day. Tony thrived under their gentle guidance, and he misses it more now than ever before. He wishes, however briefly, that Jarvis knew about the suit. He’d be amazing to have in situations like this, where he could talk to Tony and ease him into a solution.

Right now, he’s working on the circuitry on a malfunctioning fan, a task that, if he doesn’t complete it soon, will have them all in the ocean with countless lives lost. He’s freaking out, struggling to cope under the mounting pressure that loads onto him with every passing second. Through the comms unit he and the other team members have embedded in their ears, he can hear signs of struggle, and if he’s guessing correctly then Bruce has gone green, and Nat and Thor are struggling to contain it.

Captain America could be anywhere. He’d run towards the fan with Tony, but at some point had disappeared. Tony didn’t have time to inquire as to where he was going, knowing that his immediate attentions were needed to keep the beast of a ship above water.

First, he needs to ensure the cooling system is working, because there is going to be debris from the explosion caught inside the machines, far from his reach. To know exactly where he needs to be working though, he needs to know where the biggest problems are coming from.

“Cap, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“I need you to find the engine control panel and tell me which relays are in overload position.”

Tony gets to work putting things back where they belong, trying to suss out exactly what the issues are. He doesn’t expect to have to wait so long for Steve’s reply, so he grows worried when he hears grunting and gunshots.

“Cap?”

More grunting, more gunshots.

“Just… give me a minute.”

Tony looks in at the cooling system, pushing the pipes back into place and then pulls a large piece of metal out of the way and delves further inside. It’s a mess of sparking wires and trashed parts of the engine. He’s not sure where to start, and it’s causing him to panic more.

“Ok. I’ve got it.”

“What does it look like in there?”

There’s a frustrated sigh over the unit, and Tony bites his lip to hide a smile no one could see anyway. Why did he ask the man who can barely work a cellphone to help him with something like this? Even a millennial would struggle to understand the mechanisms of something advanced as the helicarrier. It’s not as though it’ll make much sense to the untrained eye. It was actually kind of cruel to put Cap in a position where he would have to admit a fault in his knowledge.

“It seems to run on some kind of electricity.”

Feeling guilt mixing with his amusement, Tony agrees with him and continues to work on the inner circuitry of the engines. He has to compartmentalise. Focus on one this at a time. He checks off each individual task when he completes it. The list is thankfully short and doesn’t take as long as he had feared it would. Once that’s done, he bursts through the wall of the rotors like an armoured cool-aid man and he looks down.

The base of the fans is covered in crap, and he needs to give it a jump start to get it moving independently. The only problem is that he won’t be able to get out before they reach full speed their own. The standard control panel can reverse the polarity of the magnetic repulsion, giving him enough time to disengage and fly to safety before he’s shredded to pieces.

He tries to explain to Cap exactly what he’s doing, only to receive a demand to speak English before he gets to the end. Tony doesn’t chuckle, though he definitely wants to.

“Pull the red lever when I say so. It’ll slow the rotors long enough for me to get out and not die in the process.”

Cap offers a confirmation, and Tony immediately throws himself in, pushing on the rotors and getting traction. As it speeds up, it starts to take off on its own. His fingers leave the blades. Now, Tony just needs to get out before it becomes too quick.

“Cap? The lever.”

“One minute.”

Tony stares at the blade moves further way.

“Oh no.”

His back hits the blade behind him and he’s pushed to the ground. The blades run over him, throwing him this way and that, battering the suit, causing the HUD to flicker and pain to erupt across his body.

Tony hears sounds of a fight over the scraping and banging from around him, and he tries his best to be patient. His dad always said that some of the best things come from waiting, but since waiting this time might result in his death, Tony isn’t entirely sure the lesson applies.

“Come on!” he begs.

“I’m a little busy here!”

Tony’s retort is stolen from his mouth as he is struck again and again. His fear is a strong, potent thing, and he doesn’t want to lose whatever vague respect he has from anyone on the team by crying. It’d be so much worse with the suit on because he’s supposed to be an adult now.

“Got it!”

The fans slow by a fraction, and Tony uses that time to dip below the blades. The suit sparks and whines in protest, and it takes a while for it to stabilise. Enough time for Tony to further fear for his life. When he’s able to hover mid-air, he gets his breath back and promises himself that he’s not going to die today, reasons with himself that he’s OK now, even if he’s going to be covering up bruises for the next few weeks.

When he gets a better grip on himself, he sees that Cap is shooting at someone, and he rugby tackles the man to the ground and then rolls away, breathing heavily. The lights of the HUD die out, and Tony watches as the loading screen shows him it’ll take a few seconds for the reboot.

“You OK?” Cap asks, breathlessly.

“Peachy,” Tony replies, shakily.

Tony, shaking with fear of what could have happened, heads back up to where Cap is and follows him inside, looking for the others.

“Agent Coulson is down.”

Tony freezes. Down? What does that mean? He got hurt? Tony wants to go find him and help, but his medical knowledge is scarce.

“Medical team is on its way down,” comes an unfamiliar voice.

“They’re here,” Eyepatch replies.

Well, that’s good, Tony thinks. They got there quick, so they can fix whatever is wrong. That saves Tony the effort of pretending to know what he’s doing.

“They called it.”

“I don’t understand,” Tony whispers.

“He’s dead,” Nat says.

Tony leans against the wall, eyes trained on the ground as he tries to control himself. He doesn’t even know Coulson. He’s only hung out with him for a few hours, and sure the guy was nice and all, but he has no right to feel any grief. Not when everyone else was actually friends with the man.

So why, even with all this reasoning, does Tony feel tears prickling at his eyes? Why does his heart feel fifty tonnes heavier? Why is his breath coming in short? Why does his vision grow blurry and his throat tight?

Steve steps towards him, obviously sensing Tony’s distress, and Tony moves away. He can’t be here right now. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to fix anything when the damage is permanent. He can’t be around people who deserve to grieve when he doesn’t, people who will be suffering when he shouldn’t.

Besides, Jarvis will discover he’s missing soon, and he needs to do something about that. He’s been gone for much longer than he had anticipated. He shuts off the comms in his suit, ignores the questioning look from Cap and then flies away, heading home without so much as a backwards glance. They’re all grownups, they’ll know what to do better than he ever could. They’ll be fine without him.

He dives under the water, needing to conceal his position so that Eyepatch can’t trace him. Though Tony doubts the man is even trying. He’s probably busy right now, but it’s better safe than sorry. He flies through the underground tunnel and up into the secret entrance to his mansion.

Tony makes it into his workshop and the machines instantly being to pull away the parts of the suit from Tony’s body. He stumbles as he steps down, and Dum-E offers his body for Tony to lean on. The robot guides him to the couch and gives him a wet cloth to wipe away the sweat that is pouring down his brow.

“Thanks, Dum-E,” he says, petting its camera.

Tony relaxes into the cushions, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what he’s supposed to do now. Cap was right. He has no place trying to be a hero. Not if he can’t even handle something as simple as loss. Especially when that loss is a person he doesn’t even _know_. He’s a failure. He’s messed up hard, and everyone is going to know it. They’ll never ask him to help out again, and he deserves that. He should have stuck around to help with the clean-up, to offer a shoulder, but he’s not built for that. He’s not ready to help people through their grief, and he has no way to explain that to them. Admittedly, running away maybe wasn’t the best way to deal with it either, but what’s done it done.

“Anthony, there is a situation on the roof.”

Tony looks up at Yin’s voice.

“What?”

He’s jumping up from the sofa when Yin shows him a video of a man on the roof with some kind of device in front of him. The man turns his head, and Tony can see that it’s Eric Selvig. His eyes are unnaturally bright and blue, and it’s clear what’s happening. Loki is planning to start the invasion from directly above them.

“Crap.”

He rushes up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and orders Yin to get the suit ready. He’s trying to figure out exactly what he needs to do, and he doesn’t want to hurt the doctor in order to put a stop to it when he trips and bangs his shoulder on the ground. Moaning in pain, he pushes himself back up and leans against the wall as he continues his way up. He’s about to take the last flight when he sees movement in the lounge on the top floor. He slows and takes the last few steps with careful consideration.

“Hello?”

Loki turns, his green get-up flaring out around him. He spots Tony, looks him up and down, and smiles.

“A child. How unexpected.”

Tony prays that Yin is taking initiative and calling in the team. He’s not sure that he could contain this threat on his own. Loki has magic, and Tony only has the suit. He needs help.

“How so?” Tony sneers.

“Well, I happen to know that the suit of armour from Germany landed here not a moment before you arrived.”

Tony keeps any surprise from his face and pushes his shoulders back, trying to appear bigger. He hopes he looks threatening, but Loki doesn’t appear intimidated. He offers a smile in response. Not a nasty smile, but rather a condescending one. It only serves to anger Tony.

“Get out of my house.”

“Or what?” Loki challenges. “You’ll put your suit on and fight me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My my, you think you can lie to the god of mischief, small boy? I have been told I have a silver tongue, and mine is far more advanced than yours. I am not so easily confused or mislead. I know who you are and that you’ve been running around in your little suit with the big boys. I wonder how your friends will react when they learn their ally is so young.”

“They’ll kill you, you know,” Tony threatens, stepping closer into the man’s space. “They’re stronger than you are. They’ll get you, and you’ll have no hope of getting out alive.”

“They may be stronger than me, dear boy, but I’ve already got one of their team. Now, I’ll take another. I’ll have fun with you as my puppet.”

Loki’s sceptre touches Tony’s chest, but when nothing happens, Loki’s smirk fades while Tony’s own simply grows. He doesn’t understand the science of it but knowing that part of the reactors core comes from the tesseract, he can assume that the two energies simply don’t mix.

“What?” Loki mumbles dumbfounded.

“Sorry, no new puppets today, you lanky loser.”

Loki’s confusion turns quickly into anger and he grabs Tony around the neck, squeezing painfully tight. He snarls in Tony’s face, and Tony sticks his tongue out at him, the only response he’s capable of while being deprived of oxygen.

Then, Loki simply throws him out of the window.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my best to understand the science stuff from the helicarrier, but I couldn't find a solid explanation anywhere, so apologies if it's complete nonsense. Science was never a strong subject with me.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for your amazing comments and Kudos. We've reached one thousand Kudos', and this fic is fast overtaking Teen Tony, which previously held the title of my highest reader count. I'm psyched to see where this fic will take me.
> 
> Word of warning, I know the chapter count says 100, but I think it's probably going to be significantly more than that. I'll probably need to work on a real outline for the entire fic soon and change the word-count again. I hope you're all in this for the long-run, but for those of you who can't make it, I understand. I'll endeavour to make sure it doesn't get dull.   
> Also, please don't shy away from pointing out spelling mistakes. My Grammarly ran out, so I'm counting on the free version and my own re-reading and editing to catch the mistakes, but I'm not the best at spotting mistakes. 
> 
> Anyway, have a wonderful day! Hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Peace out,  
> WP x


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle continues, and there's a nuke heading for New York.

Chapter thirty-four

 

It’s not the falling that scares Tony. It’s the panic that Y.I.N.S.E.N might not be able to get a suit to him in time that scares him. In his mind, he’s begging for the suit to get here before he goes kursplat and praying that no one sees him falling. Thankfully, the mansion is several stories high, but watching the ground getting closer and closer makes him wish it was bigger.

He might have to invest in a damn skyscraper if defenestration is going to be a common activity. Though, maybe it would be wise to simply invest in stronger windows.

The wind buffets in his ears and his clothes whip around him as he gets closer and closer to the ground. It stings.

“Come on, Yin!” he shouts, though the words are stolen and distributed in the air around him.

People see him now, and he’s not sure how he’s going to explain away this when it comes to it. Some of them are screaming, some of them are pointing, a few have their phones out, filming. This fall is taking forever! Is time slowing down, or is he just imagining that?

“Who’s that?” someone screams.

Before Tony’s face can hit the ground, he’s swept up in cold, metal arms and suddenly flying upwards. He looks at his saviour and finds the faceplate of his suit and realizes that Yin had taken initiative and used the suit to save Tony, rather than to envelop him in it. That would have been substantially difficult to explain.

“Thanks, Yin.”

“If I had a heart, Anthony, it would be failing right now.”

Tony grins, proud of his creations evolving and elated, adrenaline riddled and giddy from his near-death experience. He hopes Jarvis doesn’t catch wind of this, because he’ll be in so much trouble if he does. Jarvis gets upset when Tony trips and scrapes his knee, so he can only imagine how Jarvis will react when he hears Tony was thrown out of a window.

Yin carries Tony to the roof, where Dr Selvig is still kneeling beside the strange contraption. He looks at Tony with cold, blue eyes. At the same moment that Tony’s feet hit the ground, a beam stretches from the machine to the sky.

Tony can’t waste any time. Ignoring the blind stare of the doctor, Tony steps into the suit and switches his comms on.

“Loki has released the beanstalk, I repeat—”

Tony is cut off when he’s grabbed around the waist and thrown off the building. It takes milliseconds for him to gain control of himself and stop himself from falling, and when he turns around to shoot the thing that hit him, he falters.

An _alien._

An honest to god, fugly alien riding a bloody airborne Segway. The Chitahuri have arrived and the invasion has begun.

When did this become Tony’s life?

“Are you there?” a voice rings in his ear.

“Me and a thousand aliens,” Tony replies, breathless. “Where are you all?”

“On our way. Quinjet is five minutes out.”

That’s all Tony needs to hear. He throws himself hard into the battle, shooting the aliens with his repulsor blasts, taking out three at a time. He attempts to shoot the machine from which the beam is coming from, hoping to close the monstrosity, but they bounce harmlessly away, alerting Tony to the fact that it’s surrounded by a strong forcefield.

They’ll need another way to figure that one out.

“The machine causing the big-ass doorway in the sky is on the roof of Stark mansion,” Tony tells them, as he dives into the street to pull away bystanders. “It’s got a forcefield around it. I can’t get in.”

“Stark Mansion? Where is Tony?”

“He fell out of a window, but I grabbed him and put him in the basement.”

“He… fell out of a window?”

That’s a new voice.

“Barton?”

Hearing his voice is such a relief that Tony manages a smile, despite the fact that the entire city is being overrun.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out. You’re Suit Man, I take it?”

“Can we not have this conversation right now? Did you say Tony fell?”

“Well, Loki threw him. But he’s safe.”

“Suit Man, can you tell me anything about the machine?” Steve barks into his comms.

“Are we really calling me that? I’d rather be called Dave.”

“Is your name Dave?” Clint asks.

“No, but it’s better than _Suit Man._ ”

“Point.”

“The machine, Suit Man. Information, now.”

“It seems to run on some kind of magic,” Tony shoots back, as he knocks a few of the aliens from their rides.

“Right. We’re over the city now. Come, regroup, plan, and then we’ll disband.”

“Banner with you?”

“Banner? He disappeared after the fight,” Nat replies. “Much like you did.”

Tony shrugs off the comment and takes to the skies, killing a few aliens on the way. He searches the area before he finds Steve’s garish suit and flies towards them. At his side stand Thor, Natasha and Clint. Tony lands before them, hand on the ground, before rising to the suits full height.

“You called?”

“We took a few out on our way in, but there’s too many. We’re outnumbered,” Steve tells him.

“Not outmatched though,” Tony assures them.

To prove a point, he releases a dozen tiny missiles from his shoulders, each of them hitting their targets. The aliens fall like raindrops around them, and he turns back to the team with a shrug.

“Ok. But we need a plan of attack.”

“Can’t our plan just be ‘ _attack’_ ,” Tony asks.

“Not a strategist, huh?” Clint asks with a sympathetic smile.

It’s at that moment that they hear and feel a ground-shaking wail. Looking up, they watch in horror as a beast the size of a blue whale comes through the portal, accompanied by fifty more aliens.

“Crap.”

“Agreed,” Clint nods.

The beast makes its way down into the streets, knocking against buildings like a bully in the hallways at school. The buildings crumble away and screams of terrified citizens can be heard from where they’re stood.

“Thor, do you think you can subdue your brother?”

“I fear he is beyond reason, but I will try my best.”

Thor swings his hammer skyward and disappears in a boom of thunder. Tony watches with confusion.

“He knows you didn’t mean ‘talk him out of it’ right?”

“No, I’m not so sure he did,” Steve sighs.

Several more aliens close in on them, and Clint shoots an arrow at them and turns back to the group as five aliens crumble to the ground lifelessly.

“We got this cap.”

Steve smiles ruefully and then they get ready to disperse to fight on their own battles.

“I’ll take the whale thingy,” Tony promises.

“Can you handle it?” Steve asks sceptically.

“Have faith, cap’n crunch. I can handle anything.”

Tony is about to take off into the sky when, over the noise of chaos around them, he hears a motorbike coming towards them.

“Banner’s here,” Tony grins.

“Just like you said he would.”

Tony gives Bruce a wave before heading into the skies and shooting as many aliens as he can manage. He heads directly towards the first whale alien thing and considers his options. It’s metal exterior, he realises quickly, is too thick to suffer damages from his blasts. He’s gonna need to be creative about this before it inflicts even more damage on the city.

“Yin, have you ever heard that story about Jonah and the whale?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Yes, Anthony, and I’d really rather you didn’t get into re-enactment right now.”

Tony laughs and dives straight into the mouth of the beast, blasting everything he can see. The skin inside is tough, but as he gathers speed he knows that breaking through the other side will cause considerable damage. He leaves a few explosions in his wake and woops in celebration as the thing falls limp and tumbles into the streets.

“One down… crap. Three more to go.”

Tony doesn’t see a problem with his current tactic until Yin informs him that the power is running low. Change of plans it is.

He flies around the area for a while, taking shots where he can and evading hits when possible. As he passes the mansion, he spots Thor fighting with Loki. They seem easily matched, Loki’s wit an equal force to Thor’s strength. It’s enough to make Tony want to stop and watch because it’s not every day you get to watch gods fight but now is not the time.

He turns when he hears the cry of the whale thingy, and he shoots a repulsor in its eye.

“Guys, I’m bringing the party to you,” he shouts into the comms as he gets the things attention.

He flies through the streets, the thing destroying cars and roads as it follows. He sees the team ahead of him, and with them is Bruce, still in human form.

“I—I don’t see how that’s a party.”

Cackling at Nat’s joke, Tony flies past them and then hears a riotous roar. Sparing a moment to look back, he’s stunned to see Banner changing form, becoming big and green, and then _grabbing the beast by the face_ and slamming it into the ground.

“Oh my god, that’s incredible,” Tony crows.

“Back on task, Suit.”

Tony doesn’t bother arguing, and he watches as everyone goes separate ways, shooting bullets and arrows and pulling people out of the way. Tony feels exhaustion creeping in, but he pushes it to the side. He can’t allow himself to slow down, needs to give his everything to save as many people as possible.

“Suit, can you hear me?”

“Eyepatch?”

“The _name_ is Fury.”

“Huh. Suits you.”

“Look, we have a nuke coming in.”

Tony freezes mid-air.

“Why?”

“It’s heading straight for you,” Fury continues. “Wanna be a part of the team? Do something about it.”

“About a _nuke_? What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Be creative. I don’t care. Just take care of it.”

The line goes dead, and Tony doesn’t allow himself time to worry about how he got onto their network. He just flies up and spots the nuke coming in fast. He heads towards it as fast as he can. Twisting and turning, he aligns himself with it, fear bursting through his veins as he mounts it on his back.

Looking up at the portal, he comes to the realisation that there may be a way to get rid of it _and_ stop the attack.

“Two birds, one stone,” Tony says shakily.

“I’m on top of the mansion. I have Loki’s sceptre. I can close the portal,” Nat tells them.

“Not just yet,” Tony calls. “I have a gift for it first.”

“Suit, what are you doing?”

Steve sounds shaken too, and Tony does his best to sound brave. He can’t give himself away now. If he dies, maybe they’ll come to that realisation on their own, but he doesn’t want to see their faces when they realise that Tony was in the suit all along.

“I’ve got a nuke heading for the city,” Tony explains, “and I know just where to put it.”

“You know that’s a one-way trip,” Steve tells him.

Tony doesn’t reply and tears start to streak down his face. He asks Yin to shut off comms and lets himself cry openly. He’s scared, he won’t deny that. He wishes his dad were here, to tell him everything was going to be OK. He wishes his mom was there to tell him that she loves him, just one last time. He wishes he didn’t suddenly feel so alone. He wishes he wasn’t heading towards his own death, but options are limited.

“Incoming call from James Rhodes.”

“Let him through, Yin.”

“Anthony Edward Stark, that better not be you in the suit with a weapon of mass destruction on your back, or so help me god.”

Rhodey’s voice is wavering, and Tony feels worse for not being able to stop the audible sobs wracking through him. The noises don’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, Tony, please,” Rhodey begs. “Please don’t tell me that’s you.”

“I’m sorry, Platypus,” Tony manages between sobs. “I’ve got to. It’ll blow up the whole city if I don’t.”

“Let someone else do it,” Rhodey orders. “Get out of the suit right now, before you die.”

“I can’t. I can’t. I’ve got to do this.”

“Tony, please.”

“I can’t. But, stay on the line? Keep talking to me? Please? I—I don’t want to die alone.”

Rhodey sighs, a heaving breath crackling over the comms. Tony pushes upwards, heading directly into the portal. Rhodey’s voice doesn’t take away the fear, but it helps a little. The guilt of making his best friend listen to him die is almost enough for him to cut the call, but selfishly, he doesn’t. He needs Rhodey there.

“Tony, I love you, but you really don’t need to do this.”

“I do. I have to. I have to save everyone. It’s on me. My life, for millions.”

Tony makes it through the portal.

“I love you Rhodey.”

“I… ove… you… ony.”

The call cuts out, and Tony’s eyes widen when he sees a giant ship, bigger than the city, floating in the endless skies. It’s terrifyingly large, and Tony releases his grip on the nuke and watches as it blows the ship to smithereens. His victory is short-lived though because then he’s falling.

And falling.

And then…

Nothing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was hard to write.  
> I hope you like it!


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter thirty-five

 

The first thought Tony has when he wakes up is, ‘where’s dad?’

The second thought is, ‘where am I?’

And the third is, ‘aw crap.’

Looking up, he finds himself surrounded by the team. He gulps down the confusion and the lump of emotion still in his throat and grins, even though his mask is still, thankfully, in place. He quickly tests his arms and legs to make sure nothing is broken. He aches something terrible, but as far as he can tell, he’ll have nothing but bruises to commemorate his day.

“No one kissed me, did they? I’m really not comfortable with that.”

The visible relief on Steve’s face calms some of the panic that is carefully threading itself into every one of Tony’s atoms. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on right now but he needs to get up to speed soon so that they can figure out their next steps.

“Tony?”

Tony sits up quickly, the panic intensifying and fluttering in his stomach at the call of his name. They all flinch back at his sudden movement, but Yin saves him from further freaking out. The screen flashes with Rhodey’s face and shows that he’s still on the line.

“Jesus Tony, I just saw, and I thought… Jesus kid, I thought you were dead. You’re so lucky you’re alive but you can bet I’m about to kick your ass for that stunt.”

“Yeah, sorry man, that was…” Tony doesn’t know how to finish that, but Rhodey seems to understand.

“I’ll be over in three hours, ok?”

“Gotcha. And um, thanks.”

“Anything for you, kiddo.”

Rhodey hangs up and Yin turns the outer suit speakers back on so that Tony can talk to everyone else. It’s a good thing that Yin is so intuitive because Tony would’ve ousted himself fifty times over otherwise.

“We win?”

“Not yet.”

“How’d, uh, I didn’t crash land. What happened?”

Steve looks behind Tony and then at the suit again, confusion and relief strongly evident.

“Hulk, actually. He… he grabbed you. Almost tore the street apart when you didn’t wake up.”

Steve holds out a hand and Tony grips it, allowing the heavy suit to be hauled up from the ground and into standing position. Steve, Clint and the Hulk pat him on the back, offering words of relief that Tony had survived, or, in Hulks case, a growl and a grunt. Tony ignores every word. Thinking about it, about how close he came to dying, how he may have actually been dead even for a few seconds, isn’t going to do him any favours. He’s already edging gingerly around a chasm if panic.

“Thor is on his way to deal with Loki. We should help, if he can,” Steve says.

Hulk, who has been stomping around while the team have been speaking, suddenly stops and huffs.

“Puny God Smash.”

“Good job, Greenie,” Tony laughs. “Meet you there?”

He salutes them all and takes off in the sky, heading towards the mansion. Right now, he’s not sure how to handle the current situation. He doesn’t want to be in front of Loki when he’s with the team. He doesn’t want to be there if he decides to tell the team about Tony’s secret.

“Yin, could you take control of the suit when we get there? I need to get to the basement and pretend I’ve been there this entire time.”

“Of course, Anthony.”

They land on the roof, only to find that Nat is still there standing beside a pale and sweating Dr Selvig. She eyes him, a look that suggests she sees everything and then signals for him to follow. Being around Nat is a disaster waiting to happen, but he couldn’t exactly go through the secret tunnel; not when his stunt would have dozen of eyes on him.

Now he’s kind of wishing that he’d taken that risk. Natasha is a master assassin and not someone Tony would ever attempt to lie to. She can see through lead, he’s certain of it, and she’s probably going to be the first to discover the truth.

He follows her inside and into the lounge, where he’d been thrown from the window earlier that day. Thor is stood with his back to them looming over a body that lays in the cracked ground, groaning.

“I see what the Hulk meant now,” Tony says as calmly as possible.

At the mention of the Big Green Giant, Loki twitches and Tony grins behind the mask. Good. That idiot deserves it. He’s given the world an intense fear of what’s out there and created thousands of traumas across the city, not to mention the deaths, injuries and millions of dollars of damage.

“So,” comes a voice from behind them, “now what?”

Tony and Nat turn to find Steve, Clint and the Hulk standing in the entrance. Thor comes to their side, hauling Loki along with him by the arm.

“Now we take the Tesseract to Asgard and put it in its rightful place.”

“I can think of a few people who will have an issue with that plan,” Clint grins with glee. “So, Natasha and I will need to turn a blind eye to this one.

Natasha’s sharp glare suggests that she doesn’t really agree with this plan, but she says nothing to argue, and they all just leave it at that. Tony imagines everyone else is as unwilling to argue with a God as he is.

Thor produces an interesting pair of hand-cuffs and slaps them on Loki’s wrists. Tony holds back the desire to ask about them and lets the team head into the elevator. Tony shakes with tension as Loki looks him over, eyebrows arched.

“How do you fit in such a big suit?” he asks, hinting at the truth in a way that Tony is not comfortable with.

“You’ve seen the man in the suit?” Clint asks, interest piqued despite the burning hatred the man seems to hold against Loki. “When?”

Loki smiles a sickly smile and simply winks at Tony before pretending to zip his lips.

“Whatever. Let’s get this arsehole out of here,” Clint growls. “I’m sick of looking at him.”

Thor nods and starts to push Loki towards the elevator. The team shift and fall in line behind him, Nat carrying the sceptre and Clint ushering Dr Selvig gently, telling him that he’ll feel better soon. Tony stays behind, standing in the lounge surrounded by flecks of broken glass, the Hulk at his side, huffing in apparent annoyance.

“Are you come with, tinman?” Clint asks.

“First of all, terrible name. Second, I think I might just… go home?”

“You’ll be expected to stay for the debriefing,” Steve says, frustration seeping into his voice.

“Well, I’m not really a fan of meetings, so pass on my apologies, and I’ll see you at the next world disaster, yeah?”

Without waiting to hear their angered replies, Tony backs up to the window and then simply flies away. He wasn’t lying, he’s _always_ hated the meetings, a sentiment he knew Howard shared, but he also doesn’t want to be around them for any longer. He needs to get out of the suit and wait for Rhodey to come by. He can’t say that the team or S.H.I.E.L.D won’t try to force him out of the suit or be sure that it’ll be done in time to greet Rhodey. Besides, Jarvis is gonna be going out of his mind with worry.

He now has the new issue of figuring out how he’s supposed to get into the basement without anyone seeing the suit and tracking it. He contemplates his options as he hovers above the clouds. Maybe it’ll do him well to say that the suit is a bodyguard of himself, so it would make more sense in the future for Tony to fly into the mansion, but for now, he needs another plan.

He decides, after a good ten minutes of deliberation, to simply dive into the river and then travel a few kilometres underwater to the tunnel. If he kicks up enough crap from the bottom, the murky water will hide the lights of the suit and hopefully make it impossible to track him. He’ll need to make the suit untraceable soon.

It’s hard to see underwater, and there is so much trash and dirt there that he’s glad he can’t smell any of it.

Once he’s managed to get inside the workshop, he allows the dripping and now dirty suit be taken away from him. He absently asks Yin to see that it’s cleaned and then makes a note for when he’s done with the upgrades, he can sort the scratched paint job out too.

He hastily turns to run up the stairs when a figure in the doorway stops him dead in his tracks.

“Oh crap,” he whispers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-six

Tony feels sick as dread pools into his stomach. No one else was supposed to know, and Rhodey finding out was one thing. Rhodey might be an adult, but he was a _cool_ adult. And as much as he loves him, Jarvis is not that cool.

“Indeed.”

Jarvis steps further into the room, looking over the suit which the bots haven’t managed to hide away yet, and then back at Tony. Tony trembles at the fact that he’s been caught, and he prepares himself to be shouted at.

“Anthony,” Jarvis sighs. “What are you doing?”

Tony opens his mouth, probably to lie, but then falters. Jarvis _knows_ and there’s no way he can lie to the man. Jarvis is a human lie detector, and Tony would never presume he was too stupid to know the truth. He just needs to find a way to convince him not to tell the others. Find a way to appeal to Jarvis and pray that he’s not banned from being allowed in the suit.

Tony substitutes words with a shrug.

“Ok, here’s what’s going to happen,” Jarvis says calmly, walking over to Tony and taking his hand. “I’m going to make sure you’re all in one piece and then we’re going to talk about how reckless you have been. Then we’ll discuss what to do from here. Ok?”

“Ok.”

Jarvis leads him upstairs and into Tony’s private lounge. Jarvis doesn’t let go of Tony’s hand, and Tony feels like he’s five years old again. Jarvis used to take him to the park when his dad was too busy, and they would stroll between the trees talking. Oddly, it’s as comforting as it used to be, and when Tony squeezes the hand unconsciously, Jarvis smiles down at him and squeezes back.

What follows is Jarvis being moved to near tears whenever he finds a new bruise across Tony’s body. There are thirty in total, some worse than the rest, and Jarvis is sure that he’s got a mild concussion. He’s told, repeatedly, that it should be so much worse, and that he’s gotten incredibly lucky, but the disappointment that Jarvis wears so plainly on his face doesn’t feel like luck. He’s given a dose of painkillers and then banned from the workshop until Jarvis says otherwise. Tony would argue, but the look on Jarvis’ face suggests that he’s in enough trouble as it is. It would not be worth going further than that.

Then, the questions start, and with each answer, Jarvis seems more and more worried. Tony doesn’t know how to quell that, but he assures Jarvis that the suit protects him from most injuries, and bruises really aren’t the worst that could happen.

“I mean, if the suit _hadn’t_ been there, I’d have died when Loki threw me out of the window.”

Jarvis pales, and Tony realises his mistake. Jarvis doesn’t shout though. He just pulls Tony into an impossibly tight hug and kisses his forehead.

“Anthony, I really don’t like this suit business, but it’s obvious that you’re passionate about it. I don’t want to ask you to stop, and I doubt you’ll listen even if I do, but promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.”

Tony knows that he can’t promise the same on the behalf of whoever he’s fighting against in the future, but for now it’s enough to ease Jarvis’ mind. Tony then explains that Y.I.N.S.E.N. is there with him the entire time, and then launches into a story about how the suit came about in the first place. He’s asked questions the entire time, but eventually, Jarvis seems to understand, although it’s clear that the truth about his time in the cave has negatively impacted him. Tony doesn’t know how to make him feel better about it, but apparently telling him that he killed the rest of the Ten Rings wasn’t it.

“You flew to Afghanistan when you were supposed to be in bed?”

Tony mouths excuses like a fish before Jarvis just shakes his head in exasperation.

“Your father was a great man, but in my opinion, he made you too smart, and too brave.”

Unable to find the insult in those compliments but sure that there is one somewhere, Tony picks up the TV remote and turns it to the first channel it was on. They watch the news together, after that. Jarvis still seems troubled by Tony’s stories, but he doesn’t push him to talk about it anymore.

The news, predictably, is showing nothing but the streets of New York before, during and after the invasion and subsequent destruction. The attack, oddly, feels miles away, but every news station around the world is talking about it. Better yet, they’ve given the suit a name.

“A suit of armour has been working alongside Captain America and several other unidentified heroes, today. The people have dubbed him Ironman and it appears that had it not been for him, the entire city of New York would have been level by what reports are saying was a nuclear missile.”

Tony wants to argue that the suit isn’t iron at all, but it sounds much better than, ‘gold-plated titanium-alloy man’ so he lets it slide. The TV screen shows multiple shots of Ironman fighting against the aliens and flying the nuke into space.

 _Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it,_ Tony chorus’.

“Let’s watch something else for now,” Jarvis whispers, flipping the channel over to a cartoon that Tony particularly enjoys. “I’ll go make some lunch, OK?”

Tony realises then that it’s been a long time since he’s even had anything to drink, and he’s extra grateful when Jarvis brings him a sandwich and a cup of juice. They eat together, but Tony finds that the food isn’t sitting right. His mind, now, is entirely focused on the suit and what improvements it needs. He needs to make it better, stronger, safer.

Because the aliens will come back. The ship he saw can attest to that. He needs to be ready.

An hour or so later, while Tony is absently making a mental list of all the things he should be doing with the suit, Rhodey appears in the lounge. Tony runs to him and he’s swept up in a hug that Rhodey doesn’t seem to want to end any time soon. He whispers words of relief and admonishments about Tony’s near-death experience, and Tony has to fight back the panic he feels in his chest when he thinks about it.

“When you were on the other side of the portal, I thought I was going into cardiac arrest, I couldn’t believe…”

Rhodey’s voice fades as the panic becomes a roar in the back on his mind, growing louder and louder until it’s vibrating in his chest. The panic, he realises, is visceral. It’s all-consuming and it feels as though it’s trying to burst out of his chest, like those aliens in that movie. It makes him want to scream and cry at the same time, and it shortens his breath, almost as though he has just run fifty miles down the road. His head starts to swim, images of the ship and the aliens dominating everything.

He can hear Rhodey’s voice, but it sounds like he’s speaking underwater. Tony’s vision tunnels and suddenly he’s _sure that he’s dying._ He distantly realises that he’s shaking, and he can’t make it stop. He can’t speak, either. He can barely breathe. It’s just… panic.

“Tony, come on kid, breathe for me.”

The words filter in, but he’s not sure how to breathe anymore. He’s not sure how to exist.

“He’s having a panic attack,” a different voice says. “Tony, breathe in through your mouth and out through your nose. You can do it.”

Someone starts to count, and Tony’s hand is pressed against a sturdy chest, and he follows it’s movements to the tune of one two three four five one two three. It takes a while, but lights flood back into the room, and while the shaking doesn’t stop, he’s able to breathe properly again.

“Oh, kid.”

Tony breaks. He cries. Rhodey pulls him into his chest and lifts him from the floor as though he were a toddler. He rocks Tony, and eventually, he falls asleep.

~

Tony is in that weird state of being half asleep. He can make out a conversation going on around him, but he’s warm, and he can feel a soft blanket over his body and the couch cushions beneath him. There’s a hand on his shoulder, comforting and safe, and he lets himself stay that way for a while, listening in without really meaning to.

“He must have been so scared when Loki got a hold of him,” Clint murmurs, sympathetically.

“I’m not surprised. He’s twelve. The worst he should be experiencing is a failed grade,” Steve says.

“Excuse you, Tony is a genius. He’s never failed a class in his life,” Rhodey says defensively.

“Not the point, but ok.”

Tony chuckles without meaning to, and the hand on his shoulder squeezes tight and then let’s go.

“You awake, kiddo?”

“No.”

Rhodey laughs and Tony opens his eyes with a smile. His eyes feel kinda puffy, so he thinks he maybe hasn’t been asleep all that long. Embarrassment overwhelms him as he looks at Jarvis, Nat, Clint and Steve.

“Don’t you dare feel bad about it,” Rhodey warns.

“I just—”

“Nuh-uh. What did I just say?”

“But—”

“Tones, anyone would have reacted the same way. You suffered a severe trauma today, and there’s no set way to respond to that.”

Rhodey’s words carry a weight that now only Tony, Rhodey and Jarvis understand. He can’t deny it either. If any of them had had a panic attack, Tony knows he wouldn’t have looked down on them for it, but he can’t help but feel weak.

“I think someone needs candy,” Clint announces, pulling out a chocolate bar.

“Thanks, man,” Tony mutters, taking the gift and putting it on his lap.

“No worries. Wanna hear about our day?”

Tony nods, pulling the blanket around him and settling into Rhodey’s side as the three of them regale Tony with tales of the invasion. Most of it, Tony knew about, but a lot of it he missed. Thor leaving for Asgard, Bruce heading out for some time to himself to name a few. Steve mentions how he wants to take a trip about the country to acclimatise to the twenty-first century, and suddenly they’re all suggesting things that Steve should go see.

Later that evening, Tony is fighting off sleep. They’re watching Space Jam, a movie Clint swore by, and Tony finds that he’s actually enjoying it. He thought the graphics would be bad, but it didn’t take him long to stop noticing. It’s why he keeps shaking himself awake.

“I think it’s probably time for geniuses and heroes alike to go to bed,” Rhodey says.

“I’m not tired,” Tony grumbles. “Besides, the movie isn’t finished.”

“Well, I’m beat and I wanna get some shut-eye. Can we pause it?”

Tony knows Clint is trying to trick him, but what if he’s not? They’ve all had such a long day that Tony doesn’t want to risk making them stay awake for him. Nat turns the TV off without anyone saying anything, and Jarvis begins to clear about the empty take-out cartons from dinner. Steve closes the sketchbook he’d been idling drawing in all night, and Tony figures whatever.

“Fine.”

Rhodey shakes his head and guides Tony towards his room. Tony goes about brushing his teeth, having showered and put on his pyjama’s after the team showed up.

“I’m gonna stay the night OK?” Rhodey says as he pulls the duvet up and over Tony.

“You don’t have to.”

Rhodey works in the military, which means the country needs him to be working. He already had to take time off to be with Tony after his parents died, so Tony feels bad that he’d need to stay any longer than that.

“I want to. I promise. Besides, I get two weeks leave, and I want to spend it with my favourite snark machine.”

Rhodey smiles and Tony whispers a thank you.

“Sweet dreams, loser,” Rhodey says, before closing the door.

That night, the exhaustion offsets the manic thoughts pulsing through his head, and he drops to sleep soon after Rhodey has left.

Unfortunately, the dreams are anything but sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a weird state where I always feel like I'm updating this late.  
> I go between writing a chapter for my Wattad book and writing a chapter for this fic, so I always feel like I need to finish the next chapter of the other because I've not focused on it at all. It's super odd.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all again for your amazing comments and the Kudos. You're fueling my creative fire and it's genuinely my favourite thing to read and reply to them.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The suit once felt like a safe place to Tony. The smooth metal was an extra skin that protected him; made it so that he could never get hurt. He felt near-invincible like it was impenetrable. He truly believed that he could not be touched.

It’s not been disproved, exactly. Inside the suit, he’s safe and able to complete amazing feats he may otherwise be unable to do. But inside the suit is only safe for him. It also makes it possible to defend those around him, but he’s only one person. While he’s in the suit and occupied, what happens to the rest of those around him? When he’s safe and protected, what will the aliens do to the people he loves?

He might very well be safe, but he’s not so bothered about himself anymore. He has taken on a responsibility, and he has to see it through until the end. Every person that dies when he could have saved them is a life he’s allowed to go to waste. That’s on him, and he needs to find a way to stop that from happening. He needs to fix it. Needs to find a way to save everyone. Although he knows he needs to warn them about the dangers, he feels no one will believe him. Protecting them will be the next best thing.

The portal is above him, and the millions of people below him need him to do this. They need him to take the nuke through and save their lives. He’s terrified, Rhodey’s voice is goading him to come back, and he’s crying. Begging the world for this to work. The ship comes into view, large and intimidating, promising the future attack it inevitably brings with it, and Tony wants to warn everyone below, but the power in the suit dies out.

The suit falls away from the alien ship and Tony’s chest tightens as his lungs strain for air. His head aches and his body grow heavy as the explosion scatters debris around him. But instead of the portal staying open, it closes, leaving him to float and stare up at the swarm of aliens that fly from the ship that appears to have gone undamaged by the nuke.

Tony screams as thousands upon thousands of aliens descend upon him and he’s surrounded and unable to fight.

“Wake up!” Yin shouts, his voice echoing around the lifeless suit.

“They’re coming.”

“Anthony, you need to wake up!”

A pinch on his arm has him lurching forward, screaming as he battles against the aliens. One of them wraps their arms around him, restraining him, and he thrashes away from them, pleading for them to let him go.

“It’s just me, kiddo,” Natasha whispers. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

“N—Nat?”

“Yeah, Tony. It’s Nat.”

Tony twists to see her face, and when she lets go, he pushes his face into a pillow. His breathing is ragged, and his heart is humming so fast that it hurts. Natasha rubs a hand up and down his back and murmurs to him, promising it would be OK.

Just as they’ve all been doing for the past month.

Since the attack, Tony has been thrown back into post-Afghanistan habits and sleep has been elusive. The team, who stepped up when Rhodey went back, have taken it in turns to sleep in the room near Tony’s to be there when he needs it.

He’s begged them to stop, to just let him wake up and get through it himself, but they’re refusing to. He won’t deny that the comfort is helping, but the worry is that he’ll say something in his sleep that he maybe shouldn’t, and they’ll learn that he’s Ironman.

Unfortunately, the resolution won’t be as simple as last time. He never even thought that the Obie situation could ever be considered simple, but in the face of aliens, he can’t even hope to contain, it was practically a walk in the park. He’s not sure where to begin solving this one, and every attempt to get him in therapy has been met with resistance.

Tony doesn’t need therapy. He needs a way to protect the earth from the dangers beyond even his own comprehension.

Nat, ignorant to what truly ails him, runs her fingers through his sweaty hair.

“I’m ok,” Tony whispers.

“Sure you are. Try to get back to sleep, ok?”

As if he’d ever say no to Nat. He’s not sure she’d even shout at him, but a simple stare could have him shaking and sweating in fear.

There’s never been a woman scarier than Nat.

Knowing that, for now, sleep will be impossible, Tony pulls his phone out from under the pillow and opens up the reading app. He’s been trying to get through the Percy Jackson series since he heard a kid in a restaurant talking about it. He’d said that all the kids at school were reading it, and he couldn’t be the only one who didn’t. Tony found himself sharing the same belief. Tony was around the same age as the kid and probably wouldn’t have the best time making friends if the only literature he’s allowed himself to indulge in is scientific journals. He wants to be more like other kids his age, just in case.

He’s watched Harry Potter and considered reading it, but he’d never found the time. Now, with all the time he doesn’t spend sleeping, he’s finally got the spare hours to read something on his list of, ‘things normal kids have read’. He’s got quite the pile (electronically speaking), and he’s a fast reader when he wants to be. He’s just also very distractible.

Tonight, he drops to sleep around the time Percy encounters the Chimera and manages a solid three hours of sleep before he calls it a dud attempt and heads down to the labs. He’s learnt from experience that Steve, Nat and Clint will carry him to his room if he heads into the labs before 5 am, but after that it’s free game. Since it’s 5:15, he doesn’t worry about being in trouble.

Once in the lab, he’s straight back at the schematics for a new suit. Mark VII he’s calling it, and if experience has taught him anything in this last month, it’s not going to be the last. He was forced to install cabinets into the walls to hide the growing number of suits from prying eyes.

“Yin, play Rolling Stones for me, yeah? Maybe from the Banquet album.”

Instantly ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ is playing over the speakers and Tony loses himself in his work. He needs to do several things with the suits before he can be sure that he’s able to fight against as many aliens as he saw. The threat is larger than him, larger than the team, and he needs _more_ if he intends to protect the world from the incoming threat.

He’s heavily debated putting the suit back on just to tell the team about what he saw, but it doesn’t seem appropriate just yet. He already mentioned it to Rhodey, and his worries were gently pushed to the side. Rhodey doesn’t believe him. In fact, he truly believes it was a fever dream from the panic of being in space.

That’s fine. Tony understands why Rhodey wouldn’t _want_ to believe. Who would? It does, however, make things a little more difficult for Tony. If he doesn’t have anyone on his side, then the possibilities are even direr. If he’s the only one prepared for an invasion, then that’s one against millions. He’ll never be able to combat it alone. They’d need an army, and he won’t be able to convince them to help.

Unless, Tony thinks, he _makes_ the army.

***

By the time seven-thirty comes around, Tony realizes he’s not alone in the shop anymore. He’s startled by an awkward cough behind him, and his first instinct is to wave Jarvis away, promising he’ll come up for breakfast in a moment, but the presence doesn’t go away.

“Jarvis, come on, I’m—Bruce?”

In the doorway Bruce smiles and shrugs.

“Sorry, I did knock, but you’re A.I – and I would _love_ to have a conversation about that sometime – told me just to come in.”

“Oh.”

Tony carefully covers the suit schematics with a folder and closes the offending holoscreens. Bruce’s eyes twinkle, though, and Tony prays that he didn’t see.

“Sorry I left so suddenly after the battle. I had to… think about some things.”

“No worries, Dr Banner. Honestly, you needed time to cool off, I understand. Steve told me about the battle, so I know that it was a bit of a stressful time for everyone. Well, not a _bit,_ but you know what I mean. I hope. I just mean that I get it. It was a lot, and you wanted to wind down. I can’t imagine it’s easy to deal with that Hulk. Not that I can actually understand. And that’s not to say that you can’t deal with it or anything. I just mean—”

“Calm down. I didn’t leave because of the Hulk. Actually, I left because of you.”

Tony’s mouth drops open and his eyes widen in hurt. He snaps his mouth closed quickly and takes a deep breath.

“I understand. I can be a pain sometimes, I get that.”

Turning back to the project, Tony tries not to get too upset. Bruce has every right to want to be away from Tony. It doesn’t matter that Tony thought he’d found a new friend, or that Tony had missed talking frankly with Bruce about science. He has to explain all the small details to the team when they ask about what he’s up to, but not Bruce.

“I don’t mean that, kid.”

Tony tries not to get his hopes up there.

“Then why?” he asks.

“I know it’s you in the suit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while ago I found a fic called 'Sum of our parts' and it mentioned played 'Sympathy for the Devil' so I wanted to honour it with this.  
> If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend. It's one fic that I constantly go back to, and it's hilarious and well-written. It's by ToAStranger. Honestly, go give it a read. It's amazing.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation: Rescue Dum-E

Chapter Thirty-eight

Tony gulps and considers denying it and then running away fast and hard. He’s not sure where he could go, but he doesn’t hate the idea of revisiting his ‘living in his room’ plan. He’s not sure whether Bruce plans to shout at him, threaten him or blackmail him with the information, but each potion is equally terrifying.

  
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

  
“Hulk knew. I’m not sure how, but that information stayed when I turned back. I guess that’s why he cared enough to save your life when you fell.”

  
Yep. Definitely run and never come back out. Bruce is going to tell the rest of the team and he’s going to be in trouble and then Ironman, who has only just gotten his superhero name, is going to be taken away.

  
“I won’t tell the team, I promise, ” Bruce sags as though reading Tony’s mind. “But we do need to have a talk about this.”

  
Tony pulls a face and Bruce laughs.

  
“I know, I know. Talking sucks. But, come on. You’re twelve years old and running around in a suit of armour. Worse than that, you actually flew into a portal and almost died. That can’t go on without a proper discussion.”

  
Tony really isn’t sure where the conversation is supposed to go from there. He just watches Bruce, praying that he’ll say ‘well, that’s about it. Continue on as you are.’ But alas, no such words are uttered, and Bruce appears to be waiting expectantly for Tony to say something. He a not sure where he’s supposed to start, so he figures it’d be best if he just didn’t.

  
“Tell me how this came about.”

  
Tony groans and sits down on one of the workbench stools. Bruce moves further in the workshop and sits on a stool opposite Tony’s.

  
With a deep breath, Tony begins to explain the kidnapping and the dire circumstances in which he was forced to build the suit. He tells Banner about coming home and having trouble sleeping because he needed closure. He continued onto talking about how he recreated the suit, used it to fight Obie and then started to use it more regularly.

  
“And who else knows?”

  
“Rhodey, Jarvis, and now you.”

  
Bruce nods and turns to face the inside of the workshop. It’s felt empty since he was taken from the funeral. Dum-E still hasn’t been returned, and he brought so much life to the room. Now, whenever Tony wants something, he’s reminded that he’s alone. Every time Tony has tried to figure out where he may be, either the team have been too busy or he’s been distracted.

  
“If you’re going to be risking your life out in the suit, I want to lay some rules down,” Bruce says.

  
Tony very much does not want to give in, but he figures that saying no will result in having his suit taken away.

  
“Under one condition,” he bargains.

  
“Oh? Isn’t the condition that I don’t tell the team?”

  
“… that’s one of them. Maybe we add another?”

  
Bruce raises his eyebrows in amusement but rolls her hand and lets him continue.  
“I want Dum-E back, and no one on the team seems to be able to help. Dum-E is my first A.I. and my first real robot and I miss him and I don’t want him to be stuck in that place. Who knows what Hydra is doing to him! They might be tearing him apart and-and if they are and I’m not even trying to save him then that’s my fault so I need to—”

  
“Ok, Tony, you need to calm down Ok? Just, breathe. I’ll help you get Dum-E back.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“As long as you follow the rules. Agreed?”

  
“Agreed.”

  
“Excellent.”

  
Bruce jumps straight into the rules, sparing no time for argument. He explains that Tony must remain in constant contact with at least one of the people who knows the truth about Ironman when he’s in the suit. He’s not allowed to go out in his suit without warning someone first. He also needs to allow himself to be subjected to a thorough medical check every time he is out in the suit.

  
At first, Tony argues that he was being treated like a child and he doesn't appreciate it, but Bruce was calm and reasonable. He didn’t allow Tony to worry about it for too long.

  
“As much as you may want to pretend otherwise, Tony, you are a child. You’re not even a teenager yet, and you’re also without parents. I don’t know you as well as I’d like to, but you have certainly exceeded the normal standards of a twelve-year-old. But that doesn’t change the fact. And you need people to care about you.”

  
“But it’s restrictive.”

  
“They are very reasonable demands, and I think you know it. I had no desire to take the suit away from you, but I need to know you’ll be safe no matter what. Surely you can appreciate that?”

  
Tony’s shoulders slump and the face he pulls expresses exactly how he feels over to Bruce. The man places a hand on the boy’s shoulder and offers a comforting squeeze.

  
“Don’t think of this as being suffocated. Think of it as never being lonely.”

  
“Ok, how about this; we change the rules when I turn thirteen.”

  
“Not a chance. However, a discussion can be had to barter changes when you turn sixteen.”

  
With a huff, Tony relents. He shakes Bruce’s hand and then turns back towards his suit schematics.

  
“Let’s get a head start on finding your robot, ok?”

  
“Ok.”

 

 

 

The team, it appears, aren’t unable to help, they're simply reluctant to offer information about the location of the Hydra base. Bruce grows noticeably frustrated with them, before giving up and heading back down to the labs to talk to Tony.

  
“I watched on the cameras,” Tony admits when Bruce walks through the doors.

  
“I can’t understand why they won’t tell me, but I’ve got another idea. You have extensive knowledge of Dum-E, right?”

  
“Sure. I built him.”

  
“Anything we could track?”

  
Tony facepalms.

  
“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that!”

  
Tony pushes his chair over to his desk and starts to furiously type away. Bruce stands at his shoulder and watches in awe as Tony brings up a map and then a location.

“Oh, it’s in Colorado. Why Colorado?”

  
Without waiting for a response, Tony stands up and turns to Bruce.

  
“Rescue mission?”

  
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

 

 

With Tony in his suit, he climbs aboard the Quinjet that Bruce commandeered. Yin is busy running interference so that no one will notice they’re gone, and they quickly make their way to the base, which is in the middle of nowhere, and mostly underground.

  
”You ready, Ironman?”

  
“Operation: rescue Dum-E is underway!”

  
Of course, Tony is also able to use this time to find clues as to who the traitor is, and maybe even catch a lead on Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is just a preemptive warning for between now and November. I have to finish writing and editing the sequel to a published piece of work, and I know it's going to slow my posting schedule down. I'm not sure I can say with certainty exactly how long that will be, only that it won't be as often as now. I will make it up to you after the release though! I'll writ several extra long chapters!!
> 
> Peace out,  
> WP


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They enter the base and find more than they bargained for.

Chapter 39

 

Between the Quinjet and the suit, it takes less than an hour to get to the hidden base when they go at full speed. Tony keeps in constant contact with Bruce, occasionally talking about the mission perimeters, though often falling off-topic and asking Bruce questions about his past scientific papers. Bruce doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, never faltering, always answering. Tony loves the immediate responses and knows that he fully intends to continue doing so when they get home.

The conversation dies out slowly as they get closer to the base, and it’s not until they’re directly above it that Tony wishes they’d been able to convince Steve to go with them. As much as he might not care about Tony, or truly consider him to be sensible and reasonable, he’s still a great asset to have at one’s side when going up against Hydra. He is the expert, after all.

“You ready, kid?”

“Sure am, Mr Banner. Quick in and out, yeah?”

“Yeah. Remember, stay in constant contact. I’ll go in to find Dum-E and you find the control room and ensure that we’re not going to be boxed into a corner. The less contact we have with the Nazi’s the better.”

“Gotcha.”

Tony orders Yin to take control of the Quinjet and then hovers alongside the door. He and Bruce had agreed before leaving the mansion that having the Quinjet ready to go when they finished was the best option. He would fly Bruce down and back up at the end of the mission, and the Quinjet would be ready to go under Yin's steady control. Without it being on stand-by, they might not be able to get away in time.

They land on top of the base and Tony feels adrenaline borne from fear bubbling under the surface. The last time he was close to Hydra, they’d attempted to electrocute him into a mindless zombie, and such things don’t happen without leaving a mark. Tony’s desire to save Dum-E overrides his panic at entering the building though, so he can’t convince himself out of it, no matter how fast his heart starts to beat.

“You ok?”

“Sure. Perfect. Excellent. Peachy. Let’s just… in and out.”

Bruce pats his shoulder and they head in through the rooftop access door. They split, Tony using Yin to navigate his way to the control room. The halls were suspiciously empty, and Tony really wasn’t sure why it set his nerves on edge when it meant that finding and entering the room was easier than it had any right to be. From the silence on Bruce’s side of the comms, he knows that he’s not the only one to have found no one.

There are only three computer screens, each showing different sections of the building. He flits between cameras and can’t find anyone on any of them. The place looks positively abandoned, and that sets Tony’s nerves on edge.

“Yin? Are we certain Dum-E is here?”

“Positive.”

Tony pulls a face and continues to search the base for evidence of human life. He can’t even see Bruce, which is disconcerting.

“Yin's ridiculous, or should I be worried by the absence of people?”

“It is awfully odd that there isn’t a single person here. Though, I suppose we can’t discount the idea that the team drove them out.”

“Of course. That would make sense. But only if this is the same place as the last one.”

Bruce is silent for a moment, and Tony wonders if he’s found something.

“What you got, Mr Banner?”

Bruce continues to be silent.

“Anthony, we appear to have lost contact with Mr Banner.”

Tony’s stomach drops and his mouth feels suddenly dry. He continues to look through the possible cameras across the base, his panic growing and his movements fast becoming frantic when he finds nothing.

He knows he and Bruce had a plan and that Tony had had to promise to stick to it. They had talked about contingencies, obviously, but Tony going back to get the team meant leaving Bruce in a dangerous place for a long time on his own, and Tony can’t do that. Besides, the point of being in the suit is to save people. He’d never forgive himself if he failed to do that and Bruce got hurt as a result.

So, Tony swallows down his fear and flexes his fingers.

 _I can do this_.

He steps out of the control room and into the dark, empty hallways. The eerie silence follows him ominously, broken only by the mechanical whirrings of the suit and his laboured breathing.

 _Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic,_ he mentally urges himself.

His mantra plays out as he heads further into the desolate base, praying that any minute Bruce will come back online and apologise for a glitch. Every step he takes promises disaster, and he’s hyperventilating, almost deaf to the warnings from Yin to calm down.

“I can’t calm down, Yin. I’m _freaking out_.”

Tony makes it down four levels before anything happens to show him just how in over his head he is. Movement in his periphery has him stuttering into stillness. His mind is telling him that freezing up in the face of danger is the worst possible move, but his fear refuses to allow him to go further. It’s irrational, but he knows that his panic was there for a reason.

The sound of metal hitting metal causes his body to turn around just in time to find a metal arm crashing down on the helmet. He stumbles back from the force of it, a terrified cry thrown from his lips before he has the chance to stifle it.

The figure rushes forward again, ready to attack a second time, but Tony lifts a hand and a blue beam sends the man skidding away, metal hand scraping along the floor, sending sparks up and lighting up the mans face. He growls, and Tony realises as the man stands back up that it’s Bucky.

The recognition doesn’t stall the fight, and Tony is suddenly defending himself against a comic book legend. Bucky’s face is twisted in fury, and Tony is already sweating. The man packs quite the punch, the power coming from his arm enough to push even Tony’s suit backwards.

“Stop!” Tony pleads.

Bucky either doesn’t hear the cry, or he simply doesn’t care. He twists elegantly and his leg catches Tony directly in the centre of his chest. The weight of the suit is no match for the man, and he loses his balance, crashing down. Smashing into the ground jostles Tony, and he struggles to withhold a hiss of pain when his head smacks into the helmet. When he tries to stand up again, Bucky throws himself at Tony, kneeling on his chest. A hand comes down to tear off the mask.

Tony’s face is revealed, terrified, pale and desperate. This, at least, stalls Bucky. His fist, which had been wound backwards, falls to his side and he stares at Tony, face blank but eyes filled with confusion.

“Please stop,” Tony begs.

Bucky stumbles backwards, gaze never leaving Tony’s.

“You… a child.”

Tony nods, for the first time embracing the title.

“Tony?”

Bruce’s voice echoes through the hallways, bringing relief with it. Bucky seems startled now, and he runs away as soon as Bruce comes into view.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bruce asks, standing over Tony.

Tony pays him no mind, struggling to his feet and starting after Bucky before pausing. Bucky needs help, but Tony knows that he’s not the right person to do it. He’s not mentally equipped to deal with a brainwashed man, and he definitely doesn’t have the speed or power to bring him in. Besides, with his mask gone, going further risks exposure.  He needs to play this smart. Besides, he feels insanely dizzy right now.

Bruce puts a hand on his metal shoulder and Tony reacts with a flinch. He turns to find Bruce tugging a slightly dishevelled looking Dum-E with him. Elated, but also running on the last dregs of energy, Tony exits the suit and crashes into Dum-E, giving him a hug.

“You found him!”

“I did. He was locked in a lab in the basement. It appears as though he was setting fire to things, and then extinguishing them almost immediately.”

Tony laughs, and then promptly vomits on the floor. Bruce steps back, avoiding the worst of the splatter, but then quickly steps around it and grabs Tony before he can topple over.

“What’s wrong?”

“Anthony has a concussion from his altercation.”

“Altercation?”

Tony can’t find the words to explain himself, simply swaying Bruce’s iron grip.

“Ok. Ok. You can explain later. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading this for your patience. I'm trying to update as often as I can, but I'm on a deadline for my sequel novel.   
> I hope you like the new chapter!
> 
> As ever, Kudos and comments are welcomed with a smile!


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

Tony groans as he woke to the pounding of his head. This happens too much for him to accept willingly. Why is he so prone to getting injured? And exactly what was the injury this time around? Did he walk into an open cupboard again? He did it so many times that his dad joked about putting cushions on the kitchen cupboards to save Tony from getting a permanent brain injury.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

Tony squints and finds Bruce sitting at a steering station.

 _Right_.

They’re on the Quinjet, and they’re running away from the Hydra base where long-thought-dead Bucky Barnes attacked him. But, Tony thinks, it wasn’t all a mess. They still got Dum-E.

“Hey boy,” Tony croaks, reaching out a hand to his oldest creation. “How’re you holding up?”

Dum-E beeps a few times, clearly excited, and Tony pats his head gently with an adoring smile. The lab won’t feel so empty anymore.

“Thank you, Bruce. You’re my best friend,” Tony croons, his words sounding a little slurred.

“You’ll probably thank me less after I’ve had you checked over by a doctor.”

“What? No. Why?”

“You have a concussion, kid.”

“I do not,” Tony denies.

“Yinsen?”

“Anthony has sustained a mild concussion.”

“See, _mild._ Besides, Jarvis is medically trained… kind of. He can do it. He can check me over. And so can you.”

Bruce doesn’t reply, so Tony assumes he’s won for now. He celebrates by turning over on the little gurney and vomiting over the edge. His head is spinning something wicked, and he groans again, closing his eyes. His brain feels like it's on a spin cycle, and he can hear Bruce talking to him, but Tony can’t understand. He just wants to go to sleep until this is all over.

He’s not sure if he passed out for a minute there, or if he simply stopped thinking for a while, but when he’s cognizant again, he finds that he’s lying on a bed in Bruce’s new lab. Bruce is across the room, fretting over a computer screen, and Tony allows himself a few moments to simply watch.

Bruce is an interesting man. He’s usually the embodiment of nervousness and fragile uncertainty, but when he’s in the lab, his space, he’s suddenly the most capable person on the planet. He’s sure and confident and barely falters. His every move is meaningful, and there’s no room for doubt.

However, that entire demeanour changes the instant he’s not alone, and his anxiety worsens more when faced with the task of working to ensure another person’s safety. The knowledge builds guilt up in Tony’s stomach like blocks, and he finds himself desperate to remove himself from Bruce’s burden.

“Anthony is awake,” Yin informs the instant that Tony tries to move.

Bruce twists sharply, eyes finding Tony’s, and he smiles warmly.

“Don’t move just yet. You’re still concussed.”

“I feel fine,” Tony promises.

The truth of the matter, now that he has time to think about it, is that his head feels disconnected to his brain. His body aches quite a lot too, but he doesn’t really feel like admitting that to anyone, least of all Bruce.

“Honestly, Bruce, I’m perfectly OK!”

“Want to know how I know that isn’t true?” Bruce asks, with a cocked eyebrow.

Tony shrugs.

“Because you don’t call me Bruce.”

Tony scowls, realising that it’s true.

“I mean, you _wanted_ me to call you Bruce, and now that I am, it’s working against me?”

“Let’s just make sure that you’re not going to be walking away with a permanent injury, and then we’ll get you to bed for some sleep.”

“On one condition,” Tony barters. “We don’t tell Jarvis.”

“Jarvis already knows,” the devil himself says as he steps into the lab.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. How many times do I have to beg you not to keep these kinds of things from me?”

“Technically, I didn’t.”

“But you wanted to.” Jarvis comes to sit beside Tony on the little cot and holds his hand. “I’m not here to watch you get hurt, Anthony. I’m here to ensure you’re kept safe and to help you heal when I can’t do anything to stop it.”

“I don’t want you to have to worry about me.”

“Too late for that, young sir. I’m never going to _not_ worry about you, but I’ll worry even less if I can safely know whenever you _are_ hurt.”

“Sorry.”

“You certainly will be if I discover you’ve been trying to hide injuries for me. Now, let’s allow Dr Banner to check you over, and then it’s bedtime for young geniuses.”

Bruce sighs, a sign that he really doesn’t appreciate the continued use of ‘Mr Banner’, but he comes into Tony’s space with a penlight and goes through a series of tests to check Tony’s overall health.

“He just needs bed rest. I don’t think he’ll be able to handle food for a few hours, but water will do him some good.”

“I’m right here!” Tony complains.

“I feel that if I allowed you to decide how you were to move on from this moment, I wouldn’t find you in bed in an hour; I’d find you in your workshop.”

Tony is about to protest Bruce’s assumption, but the shared looks of disbelief from Jarvis and Bruce has him scowling and walking towards the door. Maybe they’re right, but only cause he’s not even tired. He would much rather be in his lab, with Dum-E at his side, working away on one of his many projects.

“Come on, Anthony. Let’s get you some rest.”

Tony allows Jarvis to lead him to his room, a steady hand on his shoulder reminding him that he doesn’t have that much of a choice, but also that he’s not alone. It’s both annoying and nice.

Jarvis gives Tony time to brush his teeth, shower and put pyjamas on, but he helps tuck him in. As he’s lying down, Jarvis starts to talk to him about his and Ana’s wedding anniversary. It’s about a week away, and they’re planning on going back to England for a week. Tony, even is his now sleepy state, can hear a thrum of reluctance in the words. He knows what that means.

“Jarv, you and Ana will have the nicest time.”

“I’ll worry about you constantly.”

“Bruce and the team will keep me safe,” he mumbles.

“I know they will.”

With a final kiss pressed to his forehead, Tony drifts off to sleep and for once, nightmares don’t plague him for the entire night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this.  
> Sorry the chapter is a little short. I'm gonna try and make the next one longer, cause stuff is gonna go down.  
> Hope you all have a lovely day!!!
> 
> WP


	41. Chapter 41

Forty-one

Tony doesn’t like having a concussion, but he extra doesn’t like how much it upsets Jarvis that he’s in any way injured.

“Come on Jarv, go relax. Nothing is going to happen to me in the few hours it takes you to nap.”

The quirk of Jarvis’s eyebrow tells Tony that he’s not making a very convincing argument, and he guesses he can’t really contest that.

“How about I give you unfiltered access to Yin? He’ll update you on everything I do until the concussion is gone, and then you wouldn’t have to worry so much!”

Jarvis looks conflicted for a moment, and Tony tries not to pout.

“Unfiltered?” Jarvis repeats.

“As long as I have a concussion,” Tony clarifies. “Not after.”

He wants that to be very clear, for both Jarvis and Yin. He has no intention of being monitored twenty-four-seven. He’s not a baby, and he doesn’t need that.

“Please Jarvis. I feel guilty about keeping you around me like that.”

Tony knows he’s won before Jarvis even realizes that he has lost. He never could stand allowing Tony to feel guilty. If he was capable of helping alleviate any negative emotions tony may be feeling, then he will do his hardest to do exactly that.

Tony has been in bed for what feels like years, but however long he’s been forced to ‘rest’, Jarvis has been unable to. At least Tony has had the chance to sleep. Jarvis has sat at his side the entire time to ensure he didn’t stop breathing or get brain damage. Jarvis has not slept in a long time, all because of Tony.

With a heaving sig, Jarvis turns to face the only camera in the room.

“Yinsen?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You can keep me updated on Anthony’s health?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jarvis sighs again, this time with contentment.

“OK. I’ll get you a sandwich, some water and some fruit. You’re not to leave your bed until Yinsen says your concussion is completely gone. Understood?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re not to do any strenuous thinking either.”

“Of course.”

“No work of any kind.”

“Sure thing.”

“And—”

“Jarvis, come on. Go. Go. I’ll be fine, I promise. Go rest.”

“I will have Doctor Banner check on him periodically, just to ease any other worries you may have,” Yin offers helpfully.

Jarvis seems to be happy with this, and he quickly rushes off to the kitchen to prepare the meal he promised for Tony. While he’s gone, Tony inquires about the status of Dum-E and is shown a live feed of Dum-E happily chirping and zooming around Bruce’s workshop, unhelpfully handing the doctor things he doesn’t need.

It warms his heart in ways he’ll deny seeing Bruce interacting with Dum-E. The man doesn’t shoo the bot away, even when Dum-E gets a little excited with the fire extinguisher. He simply cleans the mess away and pats the bot on his ‘head’.

“Here.”

Jarvis puts down the food and water bottle, kisses Tony on the forehead and leaves.

“Ok, Yin. Fire up Netflix. I have some time to kill. Any good documentaries out?”

 

 

After another day of ‘rest’, Tony is free. His first instinct is to go to his lab and start trawling through all and any information Yin was able to download from the Hydra base. He wants to do two things; one, figure out who let Hydra take him and two, see what’s going on with Bucky Barnes.

However, he’s deterred from his mission when he finds Thor sat in his kitchen.

“Thor, you’re back!” Tony calls.

Thor looks up and grins.

“Ah, young Anthony, I am glad to see you well.”

Tony realizes that now is the perfect opportunity to ask about all the things he read about Norse Mythology when he was growing up. He seats himself opposite the Asgardian prince and finds that Thor is faking the smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong.”

“You’re a bad liar, sir,” Tony informs him politely.

Thor chuckles, but the humour doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You are too young to be burdened with the problems that weigh upon me.”

“I’d advise against underestimating me, Sir. I might be allergic to them, but I’m pretty good at picking up on emotions and stuff.”

Thor is drinking from a large mug of coffee, a mug that Tony doesn’t recognize at all, and the smell is near-intoxicating. He’s never properly drunk coffee before, but he decides that, since the coffee pot is bubbling away, and it feels like they’re going to have a real adult conversation, he should get a cup for himself.

After he’s settled down with the hot mug warming his fingers, he regards Thor over the rim of the cup. He then swallows down the coffee, trying not to pull a face. It’s far more bitter than he thought it was going to be.

“My brother Loki seems beyond my reach. We were so close growing up, and now we couldn’t be further apart.”

“What happened to change that?”

“We learnt of his true heritage. He was reared an Asgardian, but my father held secrets from us both which came to light not long before the attack on your here city. We discovered he was of Jotenheim, the land of frost giants, and my father stole him away as an infant.”

“He doesn’t look like a giant,” Tony muses out loud.

“Nay, he does not. There are several reasons for this, but part of it is that he is not wholly a frost giant. He is also part Asgardian. His mother, though I do not know her by face, birthed him in the land of giants. Loki is able to shift depending on his environment, partly due to his heritage and partly due to the magic afforded him.”

“Was his mother normal-sized?”

“By my standards, yes.”

“Then how did she have a baby with a giant?” Tony asks, repulsed.

Thor’s entire face burns red, and he seems to search the room for something and when he comes up short, he panics.

“The weather is quite warm today.”

“Is it true you pretending to be a girl once?”

This change of subject eases Thor’s panic, and his blush dies away instantly. It appears as though he’s not in the slightest bit embarrassed out this.

“T’is true. My brother Loki and I concocted a masterful plan when the giants stole Mjolnir. The bargaining price was my mothers’ hand in marriage. I pretended to be her, took back my hammer and that’s that story finished.”

Tony smiles, knowing there is obviously more to it than what Thor is willing to share. He’ll get the truth out soon enough. In the meantime, though, Tony has a nugget of curiosity he would like to kill.

“Can I try and lift your hammer, please?”

Thor brightens considerably at the request and places Mjolnir on the floor by Tony.

“Only those who are worthy can lift the hammer, Anthony. Do not fear if you fail to succeed. My boots are large ones to fill, as your people say.”

Feeling confident, Tony wraps his hands around the grip and smiles.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor's wedding will return in the future!!!
> 
> Also, sorry for the ridiculous cliffhanger.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one can be trusted

Tony is sprawled on the ground with Thor looking down at him amusedly. He offers Tony a hand, while he twirls the hammer like it weighs nothing. Tony growls, allows himself to be hauled to his feet. He’s almost certain he felt the hammer _move_ , but he’s sure that can’t be right. Thor said only those that were worthy could lift it.

“Fear not, young warrior. Tis only me that can wield mighty Mjolnir.”

“It moved,” Tony tells him.

Thor grins and shakes his head.

“I do not believe that it did.”

Tony and Thor make their way into the kitchen, and after pulling the cookie jar from the cupboard and pouring himself some milk, Tony sits down.

“I don’t understand the science of it.”

“There is no ‘science’ to understand. This is magic, plain and simple.”

“ _Plain and simple?_ Mr Thor, you did not just call magic _simple._ ”

The laughter from Thor is enough to shake the table, and in other circumstances, Tony might have found that hilarious in its own right, but right now, he’s struggling to find anything funny.

“Magic is stupid,” he concludes when Thor doesn’t stop laughing.

“Nay, you just do not understand it.”

“So, then I’m stupid.”

“Why must something be stupid? Why can’t things be?”

Tony shrugs and dips a cookie into his glass of milk. He’s taking a bite when Jarvis steps onto the floor.

“If I find that you’ve eaten more than three cookies and spoiled your appetite, you can guarantee you’ll be going to bed early tonight.”

“ _Jarvis!”_ Tony hisses, mortified, looking to see if Thor heard.

“He ate but the one, Jarvis.”

“Thank you, Thor.”

Jarvis begins to potter around in the kitchen, and Tony decides that he doesn’t need further embarrassment. He could do without that around super alien gods, thank you very much. He might just be the kid that lives in what they seem to have decided is base camp, but he’s also a superhero, whether they know it or not. And superheroes don’t have early bedtimes.

“Leave the cookies.”

With a huff, Tony shoves the cookies away from him, drinks the last of the milk and puts everything away before he heads down to the Lab.

“Yin, fire up the stuff we stole from the Hydra base. We’ve got to figure out how to save Mr Barnes and I want to know who sold me out to Hydra in the first place.”

“Of course, Anthony.”

Tony throws himself into his work joyfully, but the longer he’s there, he darker her mood becomes. The downloaded information is patchy at best, but even the random pieces he’s able to get add up to bad news.

First, Bucky is a deadly assassin with more kills than years Tony has been alive. He’s been active since the end of the Second World War, and from what Tony is able to understand, he’s been frozen between missions.

“Yin, does this sound fishy to you?”

“I’m not sure that’s the expression, Anthony, but I do believe there is something unusual about the situation that stretches beyond the information you’re working with.”

Confirming what he already believes, Tony decides to put some feelers out into known Hydra servers. He uses the pathways from inside the data he’s working through, though much of it is corrupted. He fights, with Yin’s help, against the firewalls he’s thrown up against, but eventually makes his way inside.

“Holy crap. Look at this! It’s a bad guy wonderland.”

“Should I inform one of the team of your discoveries?”

“No. I want to keep it all a secret until I figure out who let helped Hydra get Dum-E.”

The disapproval is ripe as it radiates from Yinsen, but Tony does his damned best at blocking it out. He can’t be distracted right now. He’s got so much to do and being guilted into not doing it will simply spoil his fun.

He finds his way around in no time and he’s able to steal some random files that may allude to some hidden locations. There are projects he can’t seem to help himself to either. His dad did always say his curiosity was his biggest distraction.

“Anthony, what do you hope to gain from picking random files to steal?”

“Oh right, yeah. Bucky.”

Using some keywords, Tony is able to find and then take every piece of information about ‘The Winter Soldier’ as possible. Maybe he can figure out why Bucky would do stuff like that, and how to bring him to Steve.

It’s as he’s transferring what appears to be important files that he stumbles across knowledge he really wishes he didn’t have. The knowledge that connects Natasha of all people to Hydra.

“Yinsen, I-I don’t... what’s…”

Tony’s breath comes short, and he coughs around the sudden lack of oxygen. His eyes widen in fear as the implications hit him with a force stronger than anything he’s ever known. Natasha, who his father invited to live in his house, has been secretly working for Nazis.

“Anthony, please calm down.”

Tony has flashes of extreme panic, thoughts that maybe she had managed to poison him upon his discovery because _surely,_ he’s dying. He feels like everything is just simmering down to nothing but the fear of his own too-early demise.

“Hey, Tony I was wondering if… Tony?”

He realizes he’s fallen to the ground as soon as he’s being lifted from hi, but the panic it brings has him fighting the arms that hold him.

“Woah, Tony, calm down! Calm down! It’s me, it’s Clint.”

The words, however, don’t fit into Tony’s mind right. He’s struggling to form a single thought, because all he knows right now is fear, and that he has an absolute right to be feeling it. Natasha betrayed him, and if she did, it’s highly likely that she wasn’t the only one. Maybe Clint is in on it, maybe Steve too. Who is he supposed to trust?

“Uh, Yinsen, man, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, dude. He’s freaking out!”

Words of comfort filter through and Tony latch onto them like a lifeline. He’s got to pull himself out of this, he _has_ to figure out whether Natasha intends to cause anyone harm. He has to put an end to the danger she poses, but he can’t do that if he’s panicking.

“What’s do you mean, Natasha is dangerous?”

Tony listens closely to Yinsen, who is talking to him about mundane things, and reminding him of how to breathe. It’s not easy to regain himself, but he fights for it anyway. He has to. He needs to fix this. Plus, he can hear Clint panicking now.

“Is she safe? Is she in danger?”

Tony wriggles and fights his way out of Clint’s arms, and moves as far from him as he can.

“Kid, talk to me. I can help.”

Shaking his head, Tony inches towards the door, ready to flee. Sure, Clint hasn’t shown any inclination towards hurting Tony, but neither had Nat until he discovered the truth. He can’t allow himself to be pulled into a false sense of safety if the people he thought were heroes were capable of being the enemies. He doesn’t even want to consider just how few people he can trust right now.

“Tony, come back!”

But he ignores the voice as he races through the labs and leaves.

He needs to find somewhere to lay low until he can get to the bottom of this, even if it means being alone for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to finish this on Friday, but I had a race this weekend and couldn't really find the time.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it!


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oho boyo was this a rough one to write.  
> Before you get to the end, just know that it's kinda canon. I read about it by accident and I've wanted to write it into a fic, but I've not found any (though undoubtedly there are a few where it's brought up) to read.  
> So, apologies in advance. Extra apologies if everyone already knew, and I was just being daft not being in the know.
> 
> Also, Angel Tyler is a character from one of my real-life as-yet-unpublished-books that I hope to get out there in the future.  
> I'll let you know if I ever publish that series, but it'll be on Amazon.

Chapter 43

He meets the suit on the rooftop, not caring too much about who sees him, since it’s late, and the lack of sun will be enough to disguise him. With Clint still running up the stairs, Tony will be flying over the clouds before the man is able to burst through the doors.

Tony doesn’t stop for anyone, ignoring all incoming calls and messages. He only risks sending a voice message to Jarvis explaining that he’s not safe at the house and that he’ll send a new message every day that he’s away to ensure Jarvis of his health. He doesn’t tell Jarvis where he’s going, or the exact reason behind the _why_. He can’t risk that. It might only put Jarvis and Ana in more danger.

He can’t continue to be around Nat. That’s the only thing that is clear about the situation. He has to get out and figure out what’s going on. She isn’t safe to be around, and he can’t comfortably say that the others aren’t also involved in some way.

Not even Bruce.

Maybe not even Jarvis.

Two hours later, ten minutes after landing, Yin takes it upon himself to play a voice recording of Jarvis, who got the news of Tony’s departure as he was serving dinner.

“Anthony Stark, you come home _right now_ , or so help me god, I’ll sic the Avengers on you and ground you until you’re 21.”

Cringing at the naked worry in Jarvis’ voice, Tony blinks away fear-filled tears and looks around at a small island north-west of Malibu. He’s been there before on a trip with his dad, who wanted to give Tony some hands-on experience with surviving in a ‘stranded on a desert island’ setting. He’d taught Tony how to hunt for food, build a raft, start a fire, and engineer his way out of anything.

That weekend had been awesome. Just him, his dad and the elements that had been thrown at them. It was Howard's alternative to scouts, promising Tony that he’d have more fun and learn all the skills in a shorter time if he were able to do it properly. Tony had, and he did. Now, all those good memories will be tainted, but he has severely limited options for where he can go to lay low.

Because that’s what Tony needs right now. Someone safe, and away from the rest of the world. Somewhere that his family _didn’t_ own, and where he can’t be tracked to, but also somewhere that could get him a decent internet connection. His dad may have been trying to teach him some survival skills, but the man had too much going on to be able to go off-grid for so long.

“Yin, scour every ounce of the HYDRA network for mentions of Natasha Romanov, Black Widow, Romanoff, Natalie Rushman, and then run a facial recognition with her face against all media types they have; videos, photographs, you name it.”

From HUD, he can see how Yin begins to stretch himself thin in order to run through every file even remotely connected to HYDRA. Because the search area is so vast, it could take hours, maybe even days, so Tony begins to conduct his own search into what he knows about Nat in the S.H.I.E.L.D database.

If he finds something, he’s not entirely sure what he’s going to do about it. If he doesn’t find anything, well, this is the worst invasion of privacy he’s even done, and he already feels awful about it. But he has to keep those closest to him safe. Maybe if he’d personally vetted everyone who came into the house, his parents wouldn’t be dead.

Being on the island brings a renewed wave of grief, and he realises that it shouldn’t be surprising, but it is. He hadn’t considered how being somewhere that he spent a long, exciting weekend with his dad would remind him of them. His vision grows blurry with tears and his chest heaves with sobs.

For just a moment he allows himself to suffer in the pain, curling up on his side, the rocks digging into his side painfully but barely noticeable. It hurts to cry, and the presence of the Arc Reactor makes it harder to breathe.

“I want my mom,” he cries into the empty area around him. “I want my dad.”

The moment stretches on, and he has to force himself up. Wiping his eyes with the cotton of his shirt, he pulls the tablet in front of him and begins to search the S.H.I.E.L.D database for anything that could be relevant to his cause.

His eyelids grow heavier the longer he’s there, illuminated only by the reactor and the screen of the tablet. The air around him is growing chilly, and he regrets not thinking to bring a jacket. Or bring _anything_.

“Yin, completion status?”

“Five point oh-one percent complete.”

“Damn,” Tony mutters, staring at the time at the top of the screen. “We’ve been here for six hours.”

“Master Jarvis has sent several more voice messages, as have Captain Rogers, Mr Barton and Miss Romanov.”

Cursing gently under his breath, Tony asks Yin to play them all.

“ _Dammit, Tones,”_ Clint’s voice chastises, _“you can’t just freak out on a guy and run. We want to help you. We can’t find you anywhere. Just… let us know where you are. We’ll come for you. Whatever it is, we can help.”_

 _“Tony, Jarvis is very worried about you,_ ” Captain America says. _“You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t be out there on your own. It’s cold. At least let us know that you’re inside. Let us know that you’re safe. We can help, you know. Whatever it is.”_

 _“Anthony Edward Stark, you tell me where you are right now. I’m worried sick, and I… I can’t be worried. You told me you didn’t like it when I worried about you. Please,”_ Jarvis’ voice cracks, _“please come home.”_

Tony bites his lip, forcing it to stop quivering, and he presses the heels of his hand into his eyes to stem the tears. He doesn’t want to be weak, even if he doesn’t have an audience to judge him for it. He can’t handle the stress of it all, though. He hasn’t even been gone for half a day, and he already misses Jarvis so much it hurts. He hates that he’s causing Jarvis any kind of stress. He wishes he could go back, but he knows he can’t.

If he’s there, Nat might be able to stop him from learning the truth. Without the truth, he doesn’t know how careful he needs to be, or what damage to expect in the future. No. This is definitely the best option. Jarvis may not appreciate it, but that’s really not something that can be helped.

“Yin, play the message from Nat.”

Holding his breath, Tony listens as Nat’s voice is relayed for him.

_“Tony, Clint told me what happened. I’m guessing you’ve got a lot going through your mind right now, and I’d love to help you figure it out. I’m not the bad guy, no matter what you’ve learned about me. Please, let me explain before you find something and jump to even worse conclusions. Whatever you see, it’s not that simple. Please. Please believe me.”_

Tony _screams._

He can’t stop himself. He just opens his mouth and screams. He screams for his confusion, his frustration, his anger, his sadness, his grief, hurt, everything. He screams until his legs give out until his throat is searing. He screams until his simply can’t anymore, and then he stares up at the sky.

He doesn’t really feel anything yet, and he makes an extra effort to ensure that he doesn’t let any sadness back in. Natasha’s message held so many meanings that he doesn’t even know where to begin in deciphering it. So, he waits with his eyes on the stars, praying for an answer to his problems, maybe even a sign for where to go.

Oddly, it’s a crashing sound that draws his attention, followed almost instantly by the shattering of glass. It’s too far away for Tony to panic about being in danger, but it’s close enough that he can hear it, shocking him out of his short ‘funk’.

He stands quickly and stares at the old, white mansion on the coastal wall. He didn’t really think much about it last time, but now he can see that it’s fairly new less than half a decade, but obviously abandoned. The large glass walls show empty, dark rooms, and there’s just a _vibe_ about it that suggests it’s been empty for a while.

Until now, Tony realises. He can see several young kids with flashlights moving into the house. It’s almost four am, so they can’t be up to any good, but they’re obviously not hardened criminals because no rookie would make that much noise and _still_ think it was a good idea to go through with the plan.

“Let’s suit up and investigate,” Tony says.

He steps inside the suit and waves away the completion status, the low percentage being a little too depressing for him to really think about. A little crime should be enough to distract him from what has been a tense but boring few hours.

He flies over to the mansion and finds that the front door has been completely knocked down and the glass in the frame has shattered. He can’t see the kids from here, but he can certainly hear them. He rounds the corner into a large, beautiful lounge with floor to ceiling windows that look out over the ocean. The moon, almost on its way out to make room for the sun, is reflected in the flowing of the water.

“Maybe the treasure is in the basement?” one kid whispers.

“The basement? There are probably also dead bodies. I heard Old Man Kirby was a weirdo.”

“Well, that’s not true. Kirby was a hero.”

“Doesn’t mean he didn’t stack bodies down there like James stacks girls names in his creepy little book.”

The voices sound older than Tony, probably around sixteen, and Tony has to swallow back the juvenile fear that they’ll find out he’s a just a stupid kid and bully him just like the kids in his class at school did.

“Breaking and entering, regardless of the promise for treasure, is illegal in _every_ state.”

The kids panic immediately, and scramble over each other to run, shouting something about ‘ironman is gonna kill us’. While Tony doesn’t love the idea that kids think Ironman will kill them, he does breathe a little easier now that he doesn’t have to deal with mouthy teenagers.

“Excuse me, Mr Ironman?”

Startled, Tony spins around to find that one of the kids - the younger of the lot he thinks – is still standing there, looking at him expectantly. There’s a little tremor that gives away that she’s scared, but she’s wearing a brave face and that is enough for Tony to calm down a little.

“Yeah?”

“Could I, um, maybe, please may I have a selfie?”

Tony laughs. He can’t help himself. Despite the way, his blood still runs cold at the idea of Nat working for Hydra, and even though he’s still shivering from the panic of running away from home, he laughs.

“Sure, kid.”

It feels unnatural to call someone older than him ‘kid’, but it’s what Clint calls him, so it feels like maybe he should call people that too. Lends to the illusion that he’s at least old enough to drive. He gives the camera a smile, before remembering that they can’t see his face.

“What’s your name?” he asks after she puts her phone away.

“Angel,” she smiles at him. “Angel Tyler.”

With that, she runs away, and Tony is left alone in the mansion. He’s about to step away when he notices the kitchen and the first thing he thinks is ‘Jarvis would love that kitchen’. It’s then that he decides what his next move is going to be.

“Yin, how would I go about buying this mansion without anyone knowing?”

Yin lights up the HUD with a new window, showing Tony how he’s going through multiple agencies in order to buy the house quickly without anyone ever being able to trace it back to Tony, let alone the Stark name. It’s perfect, and while Tony is figuring out exactly what is going on with Nat situation, he can start to build his own private home away from home.

He’s never wanted a place to his own beyond his bedroom before, but now that he has one, it feels oddly thrilling and free and _grown-up_. He looks around the vast living room and wonders exactly where he’s going to start rebuilding. His mind runs through a million different possibilities: A sofa facing the windows, a fireplace on the wall, a fish tank beneath their feet – there are so many different possibilities – but his imaginations are cut short when Yin speaks again.

“Anthony, I believe I have something that requires your immediate attention.”

Tony’s attention snaps back into focus.

“Nat?”

“No. This pertains to your true parentage.”

Tony frowns.

“My what?”

“True parentage.”

“True parentage,” Tony repeats, perplexed. “But that… that would imply mom and dad weren’t my mom and dad.”

“Indeed, sir.”

Terror snaps into Tony’s bones and he collapses to the dusty floor of his new home.

 _True parentage._ What the hell does that mean?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that.  
> Things will be explained in the next chapter. Everythings kind of a mess for Lil Tones right now.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat comes to explain herself, but things barely get started before things get messy.

Chapter Forty-Four

 

Tony takes a while to gather himself. His thoughts have sprung off in a multitude of directions and he needs to keep his mind focused on one thing, and one thing only.

“Don’t show me, Yin. Okay? We’ll round back to that later.”

He sounds impossibly calm, even to himself. He knows that he’s as far from calm as is humanly possible, but that doesn’t change the fact that he has jobs to do, and he needs to take them down one by one. First and foremost, he needs to discover whether Natasha has done what he’ll call ‘a Stane’, and what level of threat she poses to him and the remainder of his family. He doesn’t need to focus on his mom and dad. He doesn’t need to think about them. He doesn’t need to consider that maybe they weren’t… they… they’d… no. He doesn’t need to think about it.

“Of course.”

Yin continues the search through the databases he has access to, and in the meantime, Tony begins to search the building. Before he can even recognize what he’s doing, he’s clearing the floors out, moving all the trash and rubble and broken furniture outside. He orders in some equipment to start a building project, some basic security details, some cleaning products and finally, chairs for the kitchen. Ana has always stressed that the kitchen should always be the first place to be furnished. He’s never sure why. As for the cleaning materials, if there’s one thing that Jarvis has instilled in him, it’s that he can’t work in a dirty room. Tony knows that he’s not the neatest person, and Jarvis is constantly reminding him to clean up after himself. If Jarvis were to come and see Tony working in a place covered in dirt and dust, he’d probably have a heart attack. So, while Tony may not be the most conscious person when it comes to keeping things neat and tidy, his inner Jarvis is screaming at him to act as though he is.

As Tony waits for Yin’s search to yield results and for his expedited products to arrive, he continues to clear the house out, room by room. He mentally makes plans for what the rooms will be used for and makes a list of things he needs to order once the place is clean enough to work from.

He starts with the most basic stuff. Furniture for the bedrooms and offices, a sofa for the lounge, a TV and other such stuff. He likely won’t have thought of everything, but he’ll know what he’s missing when he needs it. He’s already ordered some basic kitchen stuff, as well as the foundation equipment for a security system. He’s not sure why his most immediate needs sit between eating food at ensuring that YIN has eyes everywhere, but he’d really rather not get into the psychoanalysis of himself.

In the hours that it takes to work his way through the ginormous hose, he fields off all attempts at contact, periodically checking that he’s not sending out any signals that can be traced. He can’t have the team showing up here while he’s trying to get to the bottom of the mystery. The sun begins to rise before Yin gives him his first nugget of information.

The file shows a video of Natasha when she was younger. Almost Tony’s age. She’s training with an elderly lady, practising some deadly moves that fascinate Tony. She looks so focused that it’s hard to believe she’s just a child in the video. No kid should look like they’re ready to murder a person. The woman in the video is lithe and deadly, but Natasha still manages to overpower her. The video ends when Natasha has thrown the woman to the ground and had her knee on her chest and a small flip knife held against her throat. It sends a shiver down Tony’s spine.

As he reads through the file, he finds report after report about Natasha’s entire life. It talks about something called the ‘Red Room’, and since Tony needs his hands free to really get his elbows deep in the research while Yin is preoccupied with continuing his search, he steps out of the suit and sits in the corner. Dust erupts around him, and he coughs as he waves it away, legs curling beneath him as he begins to read. The suit stands operational in front of him, almost like a sentient bodyguard.

“What the hell is the Red Room?” he asks the empty room as his fingers dance across the tablet screen.

What he finds makes him feel sick to his stomach. From what he can tell, Natasha was raised in a bastardised version of a ballet studio. Ballet was a front for what was clearly a breeding ground of young female assassins. The stuff Natasha must have suffered through to have succeeded in such a heinous place scares Tony more than he wants to admit. It doesn’t stop him from searching though. In fact, when the name ‘Winter Soldier’ shows up, Tony digs even deeper.

From what he can understand based on the minimal information he’s able to uncover, The Winter Soldier lived in the Red Room for a year. He was used to train the young girls, and if they failed the test at the end, the penalty was that they died. Which means Natasha not only _knew_ The Winter Soldier, she also succeeded in training with him. In fact, she succeeded in surviving a place where only one little spider successfully made it out a year. She must have been completely and utterly terrifying.

Tony thinks of all the girls he’s met at school and shudders. They’re already scary enough as it is.

Even now he knows about where she’s come from, Tony will now allow Natasha’s past to define her. It does not mean she’s compromised. He’s sure Clint or his dad or _someone_ mentioned that Natasha was given a second chance when she went to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. Evidently, that chance was to get her away from a life she’d had no choice in living.

But if she were still connected to the Red Room, then she was obviously still a danger. It would be unfair to say that he couldn’t trust the Russians, but their government has never been anything other than sketchy, and he’s not willing to simply look past that right now. Besides, his father had some not-so-subtle reservations about everything Russian. Something about communism, though Tony never thought to do any research in it.

He’s written the Red Room off for the time being though. He will go through whatever else Yin has to show him, but in the meantime, he has a package to collect from the front door and a house to clean.

The boxes outside the door are heavy, and many. Tony lugs them inside one by one, breaking into a sweat early on. Then, he opens each of them up until he finds the cleaning materials. He starts from the top floor, an earpiece keeping him in contact with Yinsen for the time being. He scrubs down the walls that he can reach, sweeps up the dust and slowly but surely, the house starts to sparkle. Due to the size, and the enormity of the task, Tony doesn’t stop to rest until the sun is almost ready to go back down.

As he begins to wire the place with camera’s and speakers for Yin to be everywhere, the doorbell rings, and Tony’s heart stops.

“Yin?”

“Agent Romanoff is here. Would you like me to tell her to leave?”

Tony laughs hysterically. Nat won’t leave, no matter what.

“I’m here alone,” she shouts. “And I’m unarmed.”

She’s lying. Even if she wasn’t planning to kill him, someone like Natasha never goes anywhere without something to defend herself with.

“Let her in,” Tony sighs.

He’s on the top floor, standing on a fireplace ledge to pin wires into the wall. Nat comes in a few moments later, stopping to lean against the doorway and watch.

“If you’re going to kill me,” Tony says conversationally, “then can you make it clean? I’ve spent the entire day making this place spotless.”

Nat snorts a laugh and shakes her head.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to explain myself.”

“Oh?” Tony doesn’t turn around. “Why?”

“Because you deserve to know. I never meant to hide things, but I also never thought you’d figure out that I’d been hiding anything.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It’s not supposed to. I just want to start by being honest.”

“We’re past that, I think,” Tony says, jumping to the ground.

“Let me explain.”

“Fine. But I need food.”

Natasha frowns.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Tony shrugs and walks out of the room. Though his head is high, and his hands aren’t shaking, he’s thrumming with anxiety and panic. Behind him is a woman who could easily shoot him and he’s struggling to pretend that it doesn’t terrify him.

“Sir has not eaten since before he left the mansion yesterday,” Yin provides through the newly installed speakers.

“I’ll order a pizza, then.”

Nat does exactly that as they head downstairs. Tony busies himself with clearing the kitchen island of boxes and pulls up two of the chairs he had ordered. He purposefully sets them on either side, so they’re sat opposite each other. He doesn’t trust her enough to sit at her side, and while Natasha watches him, she doesn’t say anything. Evidently, she understands his hesitation.

She simply sits and watches Tony as he walks around the room, making a show of being occupied, even though he’s not. It’s a relief when the doorbell rings, signalling that the food has arrived. He really needs something to do with his hands before he goes crazy.

Natasha jumps up and heads to the front door, and then there’s a gunshot.

“Tony! Get down!” Natasha screams.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, it's late.  
> Sorry.  
> BUT it's the Rugby World Cup at the moment, and so I'm either busy watching it or recovering from the night of watching it.  
> On the plus side (for me) I'll be in Japan for the final! On the downside, until it's over, the chapters will be updated late. Apologies in advance. I'll make up for it in November. NaNoWriMo will motivate me to write more between my actual project and the Wattpad Story.
> 
> Are any of you watching the Rugby? Who're you supporting? I'm England.
> 
> HAVE A LOVELY WEEK!!!


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Nat talk.

Chapter Forty-five

 

Tony throws himself towards the doors that lead to the balcony, but they’re locked, and he doesn’t have the key. That is a problem he’ll have to sort later though when there isn’t someone breaking into his house with a gun.

He looks around for help but finds none. The suit is in the lounge and out of view, and Tony isn’t sure he can risk exposing himself around Natasha; not when he’s uncertain about whether or not he can trust her yet. Letting her in on his deepest secret is dangerous for everyone involved, and he’s not willing to risk everyone else who knows for a little bit of safety.

There’s no one else around to help, because unless Nat told them, then no one even knows where they are.

“Yin, can you see what’s going on?”

He realizes a second later that Yin has not been installed on the bottom floor yet, and therefore cannot hear Tony calling for help. This is not good.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it._

Panic flutters in his chest like a bird locked in a small cage, and for all his assumed genius, he’s not sure what to do. He looks around the mostly empty room and decides that his best option is to curl into one of the cupboards under the kitchen island. It’s large enough to accommodate his size, and while it’s pitch-black when the doors close, he wishes it were darker still.

Outside, he hears Natasha fighting, and then there’s another gunshot. A large weight hits the floor, and he prays that she’s won. When he hears footsteps, he notices the lack of heels that Natasha always seems to wear. Not Nat, then. Someone else. The steps are light, barely noticeable. They get closer and closer, and then Tony hears cupboard doors being thrown open.

He sucks in a breath and holds it, desperately hoping that whoever it is doesn’t hear his breathing. He’s shaking, and he curls his body tightly.

The next thing he hears is the sound of heavy, metallic footsteps, and he knows that Yin has discovered the danger. The whine of a set of repulsors brings him confidence that whoever has dared to attack won’t be walking away unscathed, and they definitely won’t be getting away with breaking in.

Feeling brave, Tony peeks out from his hiding space and instantly regrets it when he meets the intruder's eyes. A pair of familiar, dark, empty eyes.

“Crap!” he shouts.

He falls out of the cupboard and tries to avoid being caught, but a strong metal hand catches the neckline of his shirt and he’s hauled from the ground and left dangling like a disgruntled kitten.

Tony twists and kicks out, but he achieves nothing. The winter soldier is built like a brick house, and nothing he does will earn him his freedom. So he turns to the next best options: talking.

“What do you want?”

The Winter Soldier stares at him, and it’s almost as though Tony has spoken in a foreign language.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The shirt is digging into his skin, so he reaches up with both hands to grip the arm and lighten the strain.

“Please talk. Did you kill Natasha?”

“No.”

It’s better than nothing, Tony decides, even if it _is_ pretty much nothing.

“That’s a plus.”

The suit stands in the doorway of the kitchen, and Tony realises that he’s between the soldier and the suit. Yin won’t risk Tony to get to the soldier, he knows, and he’s not at a point where he can make a real tactics decision on his own. The experience will aide in Yin’s learning, but for now Tony is alone with a deadly assassin with only his wits to act as a buffer.

“Are you hurt?” Tony asks.

The confusion the soldier reacts with is almost invisible, but Tony can see it simmering beneath the surface. He feels his body sink lower to the ground until his tip-toes are brushing the marble floors.

“Let me help you. I can, you know.  Whatever has happened to you, whatever made you look like you’re twenty when you were supposed to have died seventy years ago, whatever has happened to make you part robot, mentally and physically, I can fix it. I’ll help. I promise.”

Tony can’t say whether it’s the sincerity or just the truckload of words, but something flickers in the soldier's eyes, and for a moment, Tony thinks that maybe Bucky is coming back. Unfortunately, whatever progress is made is demolished by Nat, who comes rushing into the kitchen with a gun aimed at the soldier's chest.

“Drop the boy,” she demands.

The soldier releases Tony too quickly for him to catch himself, and he falls to the floor. In the second that he’s not looking, Nat has fired a bullet and the soldier has disappeared.

“He’s a ninja,” Tony whispers, looking behind him. “How did he get away so fast?”

Nat kneels at his side, her hands fluttering over his body, checking for damage.

“Are you OK?”

Tony nods, still looking behind him, searching for the man who had been there just a second ago.

“That was the winter soldier,” Tony tells her. “Bucky Barnes! But you knew that, didn’t you?”

If Nat is surprised that he knows about their history, she doesn’t show it. She helps him up and then freezes when the doorbell rings again. Tony steps behind her, and they wait in silence for the tell-tale signs that someone else is going to try their luck against Natasha.

“Uh, Pizza Delivery for Tony?”

Tony snorts out a laugh, and Nat goes to pay and returns a second later with a large pizza box and a bottle of soda.

“Let’s talk.”

They sit down, pour out some soda and pick up a slice of pizza each.

Nat starts with her childhood, though Tony doesn’t think that it’s an appropriate word to use. After all, she spent the majority of it training to be an assassin. She didn’t get to have friends, or adventures, or even dolls. Every day was a fight for her life, and if she wasn’t on the top of her game, she would die.

“We didn’t get sick days or off-days. If you were weak enough to need it, then you weren’t strong enough to survive. It was a fairly simple system. I fought through the flu, through colds, through everything. Weakness was a flaw that the Red Room did not tolerate, and I was happy enough to prove myself stronger than everyone else.”

“When did you meet the soldier?”

“I was thirteen. I have to stress that at the time, I did not know he was James Barnes. At that age, I didn’t even know who Captain America was. As far as I was aware, the soldier was the only man who could kill every world leader and never get caught. We were led to believe he was Russian, and we had no reason to suspect otherwise.”

She then moves on the explain, however briefly, the years after the Red Room, where she earned the title Black Widow. She spares Tony the gory details, but it led her to being found by Clint.

“He was supposed to kill me. He didn’t. He gave me a second chance, and I took it.”

“And yet, you sold me to Hydra.”

“No. It’s… complicated. I guess the best way to explain it is that I suspected they would come for you. I pre-emptively put the note in your bot, because if my ‘suspicion’ was to be trusted, then I knew they would use it to make you compliant. I couldn’t think of any other way that they’d attempt to use you, other than for your brains.”

“How did they get Dum-E in the first place?”

“That, I’m not sure about. I think there’s a traitor, but I can’t figure out where. Whoever it is, they’re not part of your household staff. I don’t want to go into it too much, because I don’t want you to worry about it, but know this; Barton and I are looking into it.”

“You promise you’re not the bad guy?”

“I promise.”

“And you’ll find out whoever works for Hydra?”

“I’ll die before I give up finding the traitor.”

The relief Tony feels is almost visceral.

“Now, tell me how well you know Iron Man.”

And there goes the relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on time today! Rugby is tomorrow, so I'm taking a weekend vacation with friends. Can't deal with the Halloween mania.
> 
> Have a lovely weekend, guys. I'll post again next Friday, the first day of NaNoWriMo! Who else it taking part this year?
> 
>  
> 
> Don't forget, Kudos and Comments are the best gifts you could offer a person.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony talks with Natasha and then learns the truth. Spoiler alert. It hurts.

Chapter Forty-Six

 

Tony looks down at the table, wondering how to answer the question with at least some degree of honesty. Natasha can smell lies, he’s sure of it, and telling her that he simply doesn’t know who Ironman is won’t cut it past her detection skills.

“You know them personally, don’t you?” she accuses confidently. “Are they dangerous?”

“No!” Tony shouts, too loudly and too suddenly. “No. Ironman is safe. He’s one of the good guys, just like you.”

Nat keeps her eye on him, searching for deception, but she doesn’t seem to find any. It’s obvious that she’s not satisfied with the answer, not by a long shot, but she’s taking it as truth for now. Tony is relieved, but he knows that she won’t let it up that easy.

For now, though, he has other things to think about.

“Jarvis and Ana are very worried about you. As are the rest of the team. Do you want to head back?”

Tony looks around his empty house and shakes his head.

He doesn’t know how to deal with what’s becoming of his life, but he needs to talk to someone who won’t worry too much about lying for the sake of his feelings. Natasha is likely the best candidate for that.

Though there’s only one way to know for certain, and that’s to ask.

“I want… I found out… Natasha, I think I’m adopted.”

Her face grows hard, and Tony realizes that she knew.

“How long?”

To her credit, she doesn’t pretend ignorance.

“Since I moved in.”

“How?”

“I’m a spy, Tony. There’s very little that escapes my notice.”

“OK,” Tony nods, and then he turns away. “Ok.”

Only the second OK doesn’t sound OK at all. His voice is wobbling, and his world is falling down. He’d been hoping that it was wrong, but if Natasha knows then…

“Come here, kiddo,” Nat says softly, pulling Tony into her arms.

He cries into her shoulder for a long time. The strength of her hug doesn’t falter, and she whispers to him in Russian until he falls asleep, days of exhaustion and emotional turmoil pulling him into a slumber.

 

~

When he wakes up, he’s in bed at home. Nat somehow managed to get him across the country without waking him, and he’s impressed. He sits up in bed and startles at the sound of movement beside him.

“Jarvis,” Tony breathes.

“Young sir, you are _grounded,_ ” Jarvis informs him with enough anger that Tony knows exactly how much he worried him.

“I’m sorry,” Tony mumbles. “I just…”

“I know. Natalie told me what happened. You should have come to me.”

“No. If you’d known, then you could have been a target. I wasn’t going to put you in danger!”

Jarvis stands up and moves to sit beside Tony on the bed.

“Anthony, please remember that I am an _adult._ You shouldn’t be worried about me being in danger. Aside from the fact that I am more than equipped to protect myself, I have also been tasked with keeping _you_ safe, not the other way around. Do you understand?”

Tony scowls at him. Jarvis isn’t the only one who can keep people safe, and Tony won’t let him be in danger if he can help it.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop,” Jarvis admonishes. “You shouldn’t be worrying about other people. Only yourself, and if you ever think there is an issue, you’re to come to me. I’ll help you with anything and everything, you know this. I care about you too much to let you suffer through anything on your own. Let me help. OK? Let me help you.”

Tony doesn’t reply, but Jarvis obviously thinks that it’s enough for now. He takes Tony’s hand and drags him downstairs, still in his PJ’s, to where Ana is making breakfast. The team are nowhere to be seen, which is probably for the best. Tony will never live down crying onto Nat and then, he can only assume, being carried home.

“Anthony, we should talk about something else that has come up,” Jarvis starts. “About your parents.”

“You knew I was adopted, didn’t you?”

“Adoption is not exactly how I would describe your circumstances of birth. Know that in order to properly explain what happened, you need to not interrupt, and you need to open your mind to some seemingly impossible events. Can you do that?”

Tony nods uncertainly and occupies himself with his food. Ana has come to sit on his other side, and she squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

“Your father always wanted a child. I knew this from the moment he hired me. Before your mother was even on the scene, he talked about having a son or a daughter. You were wanted before you were even a possibility. However, there were problems.

“Your father was extremely worried that he would have a child that wouldn’t be up to the task of keeping Stark Industries alive. He had a lot of issues to work through, all of them a result of your grandfather’s child-rearing techniques. Your father was worried that if he set standards and the child didn’t turn out as he expected then he would become cruel.

“Ana and I did our best to ease his constant worry, but he was less amicable then. He was abrasive and hated himself and the circumstances in which he had grown in. I think at the time he likened me to his own father, and it took him a long time to get past this. His fear of being a bad father was slowly destroying him, so when Maria came along, he decided to be creative.

“He first attempted genetic engineering. He had the help of an intergalactic robot—”

Ana places a quick hand over Tony’s mouth to stop him from speaking, allowing Jarvis to continue uninterrupted.

“—and together they created a child. One with superior intelligence and a body built to preserve and enhance strength. Unfortunately, this child was not able to survive through the prenatal experimentations and died shortly after. Your father was angry at himself for so long. He’d created life and went too far. He decided that he couldn’t have a child, not if he couldn’t control himself around it. He was certain that he would never be ready.

“The second blow came when they learned that Maria was unable to safely bear another child. Hopes of starting their family were suddenly non-existent. That is until one day, we found you.”

Tony’s eyes sparkle with questions and Jarvis offers a sympathetic smile.

“You were left on the doorstep. You were hours old at the time, and Ana and I immediately took you to the hospital. Maria and Howard came several hours later, having been on a business trip at the time. The moment they laid their eyes on you, they knew. They knew you would be their son. Within twenty-four hours, they were your legal parents.

“Your mother was worried that your biological mother would come back and claim you. They had no idea who your birth parents were, and they were worried that any day they would appear and demand money and your return. However, as you well know, that never happened. They raised you as their own, and as time went on, it became obvious that you were exactly what your father had hoped for. Smart, conscientious and downright amazing.

“It hurt them not to tell you the truth, and I believe that they were going to wait until you were eighteen.”

Tony stews in the new information and wonders how he would feel about it had he been eighteen when he learned of his true parentage. Would he be angry? Sad? Confused? Because he feels all of those things now.

“I understand that it’s a lot to take in, and if you want to ask any questions, Ana and I will do our best to answer them.”

“They loved me,” Tony says, though it sounds almost like a question.

“More than life, Anthony. They loved you so much.”

Tony accepts the answer. He has nothing that discredits this claim. His parents have never shown him anything except unending adoration, and they always treated him as though he was there own son. Nothing about his upbringing suggests his parents ever considered him to be anything else.

Does it hurt to learn that his parents lied to him his whole life?

Yes.

But that doesn’t mean anything. Not really. He can come to terms with that in his own time, just like his dad always told him to.

‘Never force yourself to feel something you don’t, Tony. Wait until you feel it naturally or do something about it to change the circumstances.’

Yes. His father was filled with pearls of wisdom, and that one is the most relevant to him now. Tony will take his time to figure out how he feels and then do something about it when he can. In the meantime, though, he intends to discover as much about his real parents as possible.

They’ll never replace his mom and dad. No one ever could. However, he’s never been known to let his curiosity lie idle.

“Can I have some more orange juice?” is the only thing Tony asks.

With another squeeze of his shoulder, Ana goes to get him his drink.

“The team should be back soon,” Jarvis informs him. “There’s been an incident in Sokovia. Something about a robot, but I’m not entirely sure what they were talking about.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween guys!!!!!!
> 
> I dressed up as Phil Coulson at school, though none of my students seemed to get it. I might have to take a photo in today, since we have to dress up again.  
> It meant I got to wear my sunglasses all day, so that was good.
> 
> Anyway, Rugby final tomorrow. Wish me luck!!!
> 
> And lastly, thank you all again for reading. You're absolutely amazing.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Maximoff twins are rearing their ugly head.

Natasha had been quick to skip out and join the team, and Tony finds himself working on the suit in the workshop, alone. He’s anxious to hear from Clint, nervous that anything could be happening without him there.

He really should be fighting alongside them, helping them with whatever they’ve found themselves up against, but it’s going to be tough to sneak away from Jarvis when he’s intent on keeping an eye on him. After the stunt Tony pulled, he doesn’t blame Jarvis in the slightest, but it doesn’t mean he’s enjoying.

“You’re not going.”

Tony shrugs, knowing that Jarvis was going to say that. He was hoping he wouldn’t be it was predictable.

“Fine. I won’t.”

“Anthony Stark if I discover that you’ve gotten in that suit without permission—”

“Jarvis, come on, chill out.”

“Yinsen, could we please set up a protocol that informs me whenever Anthony has gotten into the suit?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re turning my own creations against me?” Tony accuses, turning around to show Jarvis he’s unimpressed.

“If it keeps you safe, yes.”

“Why don’t you just put a leash on me and call it a day,” Tony grumbles under his breath.

“Your dramatics are refreshing but don’t think I won’t do something similar if you run away again. I still have your backpack, remember? I’m going to fix lunch. I’ll have Yinsen inform you when it’s ready.”

Tony can’t _forget_ that damned backpack. His dad had to put a special lock on the front because Tony learned how to unfasten it when he was just one and a half. Jarvis nearly had a heart attack when he found that Tony wasn’t attached to the child leash anymore. Howard, proud as he was that Tony was smart enough to figure out so young, was equally as horrified to learn that Tony, his curious toddler, could so easily wander off.

While he knows that Jarvis likely does have the backpack still, he’s sure that he wouldn’t use it. Well, he’s at least eighty percent certain. The idea makes his face burn.

Jarvis leaves and Tony runs through the lines of code, asking Yin about proposed improvements and for updates on the team. It’s long but involved work. He needs the distraction, and if that comes in the form of making his suit better and safer, then it’s worth the time. Jarvis will definitely appreciate it.

None of them agreed to have Tony on an open comm, something about bad language, but Clint had offered to check-in whenever possible after Tony said he’d feel better knowing they weren’t getting hurt.

“The team are just clearing up. It appears a set of twins with mystical powers have been found and have a grudge against Stark Industries. We’ve lost track of them for now, but they appear to be lying low. We’re not really supposed to hang around in foreign countries, so we have to leave rather than wait for them to resurface. Anyway, gotta go, kiddo. Speak soon.”

Tony looks up at that, confused.

“Get Clint back online.”

It takes only a second before Tony can hear the heavy breathing of Barton again.

“Hey, kid. What’s up?”

“What’s with the twins? Why don’t they like SI?”

“It’s… jeez, Tony. It’s kinda complicated.”

“I’m a genius, remember Clint? No offence, but if you understand it, then so will I.”

“First of all, I resent that. It’s rude.”

“Sorry,” Tony mutters, feeling instantly bad. “I didn’t—”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just messing with you. Besides, I know what you’re trying to say. Listen, something happened in her town, and it involved assuming she and her brother were going to die as a result of Stark Industries weapon.”

Tony leans back heavily in his seat and sighs. That’s not good. Not surprising either, really. There must be thousands of people who have suffered at the hands of his family business, and more who have died because of Obie’s under the table dealings.

“This is my responsibility,” Tony says.

“No, it’s not, kid. It’s not on you. Let us handle it, OK? Uh, Bruce says ‘don’t you dare’. I don’t know what that means, but OK. He almost wrecked a town, you know?”

“Tell Bruce I hope he’s OK. I’ll see you guys when you get back, OK?”

Tony hangs up and runs to the kitchen, skidding to a stop beside Jarvis. He waits patiently for Jarvis to finish cutting the sandwiches because he knows that disrupting someone with a sharp object is dangerous for everyone involved. Tony learnt that at five when he startled his father and almost lost an eye.

“Tony, whatever you’re going to say can be said _after_ you’ve washed your hands and eaten.”

Tony doesn’t bother to protest. Jarvis is and always has been a big believer in food before thought. If Tony doesn’t make a show of eating something, there’s no way Jarvis will give him permission to leave.

“Now,” Jarvis starts as Tony sits down with his sparkling clean hands. “Tell me what has happened.”

Tony takes a bite of the sandwich and swallows it down with difficulty. He explains everything to Jarvis, who’s smile drops slowly, replaced by sympathy and anger. Tony knows it’s not aimed at him, well, the anger isn’t at least, so he continues to talk. He tells him why Tony needs to be the one to fix this because if he’s not then he’ll never be able to live with himself.

“Although I really wish I didn’t understand the logic here, I do. But Tony, what do you hope to do? How could you rectify this? We both know it wasn’t your fault. It might not even be the fault of SI. There’s a very real chance that those weapons were sold by Stane.”

Tony internalises his wince, knowing that if Jarvis doesn’t use someone’s title, they’re unredeemable. Not that Tony blames him, but it’s such a rare occurrence that it’s a shock to hear it. Obviously, Tony feels the same way. Obie may have been practically family to Tony, but it was clear that Tony didn’t mean nearly as much to the man than what the man meant to Tony.

“Whether it’s my fault or not, surely a Stark is the only one who can even close to help them?”

Jarvis pales instantly.

“You mean to step out of the suit around them?”

“Well, yeah. I’m the Stark, not the suit.”

“That’s ridiculous! And incredibly dangerous. What on earth got into your head that _that_ was a good idea?”

“Come on, J, please. I can help them!”

“You’re a child. It’s bad enough that you’re running around in that suit and putting yourself into constant danger. At least you’ve got a thick skin to protect you from the worst of the damage. Outside of the suit, you’re a twelve-year-old boy.”

Tony bites on his lip anyway and drops his hands to his sides. He lowers his head.

“You don’t think I can do it.”

“Anthony Stark, don’t you _dare_ try to guilt-trip me into letting you put yourself in danger.”

Tony scowls and takes an angry bite out of the sandwich.

“Whatever. I want to talk to them, not engage in a fight. What about if I promise to stay in the suit?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Tony shakes his head and Jarvis sighs.

“Fine. But, _but_ , you stay in constant communication the entire time, and if I tell you to retreat, you come straight back.”

“Yes!”

“Finish your sandwich first.”

Tony stuffs the food in his face, and although Jarvis looks exasperated, he doesn’t say anything about it. After gulping down the rest of his juice, and then waiting impatiently for Jarvis to finish eating, Tony rushes downstairs and suits up.

“Remember, don’t step out of the suit.”

“Scouts honour!”

“You were never in the scouts.”

“Well, the meaning is there. Now, let’s go save the world.”

The last thing Tony see’s before he flies up and over the mansion is Jarvis’ worried smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, England lost, which sucks, but it was still a great weekend in Japan, so not all was long. Only four more years
> 
> Also, it's NaNoWriMo! I'm powering through it best I can, but Fridays is both my most and least productive day. Most productive because it's the day I update this fic and the day I update my WattPad story, but it also leaves me little time to write my WriMo story.  
> Is anyone else doing it this year? Want to be buddies? My WriMo name is LadyWriteALot. Feel free to add me!
> 
>  
> 
> WP


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the Maximoff twins.

Chapter Forty-Eight

 

Tony manages to avoid boredom on the way to Sokovia. He brings up a dozen files flagged by Yinsen. Things for the suit’s improvements, schematics of his new Malibu house and even some games for when he complains about working while flying.

He doesn’t notice the jet speeding towards him until he’s forced to twist to the side to avoid it, and he cringes in the suit when he realizes that the Avengers are on their way back home. Not anymore, though, if the blinking green dot following him on his radar is any indication.

“Ironman, do you copy?”

“Yin, is voice distortion on?”

“It is now,” Yinsen confirms.

“Hello Avengers, fancy seeing you in a place like this.”

“This is Black Widow. Care to explain what you’re up to?”

Natasha’s cool voice has him biting his lip. He doesn’t’ want her to be angry with him, but apparently, he’s beyond that now.

“I heard you were having a party without me.”

“We were, but you weren’t invited for a reason,” Hawkeye says.

“Well, that’s rude. I’ve been told I’m the life of every party.”

“Turn around, Ironman,” come Captain America’s orders.

“No can do, Capsicle. I’ve got things to do, places to be. You know how it is.”

Yin shuts the communication down on his demand, and then sends as much power to the thrusters as possible. He speeds away, and eventually, the jet is so far behind him that Tony doesn’t need to worry about them catching up. He continues on his way, and within the next hour, he’s touching down on Sokovian soil.

He looks around, seeing nothing but dense woodlands and the grey sky above. He wishes he could open the mask, as he’s always loved the smell of forests, but his promise to Jarvis replays in his head.

“Yin, check for unnatural energy signatures. Clint mentioned something about them having powers, right?”

Tony’s entire body rocks backwards when he’s hit with a gust of wind, and his suit starts to go wild, picking signatures from everywhere.

Wait.

No. Not everywhere. From one particular subject, going impossibly fast.

A body appears in front of him, grinning cheekily, but with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Wanda, take care of this.”

A girl with long red hair steps from behind a tree, and if it weren’t for the fact that Tony’s heart was beating erratically at the sight of a pretty girl, he might have had the sense to flee when he sees her hands glowing red.

“Let’s see who’s underneath that suit, shall we?”

Her voice, like the boys, is heavily accented, which only terrified Tony more. His entire body rocks as parts of the suit begin to glow red and pull apart.

“Yin, do something,” he begs as parts of the suit begin flying away.

“Anthony, what is happening?” Jarvis shouts into his ear.

“Um. She’s a witch, I think.”

Whatever Jarvis tries to reply with is lost as the suit falls away from him completely, and he tumbles to the ground, rocks digging into his skin and dirt caking his left side. He rolls over, looking up and the faces that appear above him. He watches as the playful looks melt away. Their eyes widen and their mouths drop open.

The girl, Wanda, steps closer, her toes nudging his ribs, a snarl pulling at her features. She lifts her hands again, and Tony scrambles backwards, breath heaving until it is knocked out of him completely when he hits a tree. He throws his arms in front of him and shuts his eyes tightly, not sure what to expect except the worst.

The boy shouts something, though Tony doesn’t understand it, and then leaves and twigs crunch steps getting closer and closer until the only thing Tony can hear is breathing and birds.

“You’re the Stark child?”

Tony flinches at how close the voice is, and he peeks out over his arms to find him knelt in front of him. He’s smiling, but this time it doesn’t make Tony’s heart race with impending death.

“Yes.”

“Wanda put those away,” the boy calls without turning around.

Tony watches as the red glow disappears, and Wanda huffs out a breath and crosses her arms over her chest.

“My name is Pietro. That’s my sister.”

Tony looks between them both and pushes himself further against the tree. He shouldn’t have come. Jarvis was right. He’d promised not to step out of the suit, but that decision was stolen from him, and now here he is, vulnerable and facing two super-powered people that probably want to rip him apart.

“We don’t plan to kill you,” the girl says, some of the angry red flush fading.

Tony meets her gaze and his eyes widen.

“Did you just read my mind?”

She smirks, and Tony feels sick.

“You’re freaking him out,” Pietro accuses, twisting to face her.

“His family murdered ours,” she hisses back.

Pietro turns back, still kneeling, and offers a hand. Tony shakes his head so quickly that his scalp scratches the bark of the tree.

“Come on. I promise we won’t hurt you.”

Trembling like a leaf in the wind, Tony allows himself to be hauled to his feet, but he immediately steps away, his back as close to the tree trunk as he can get it.

“It’s OK that you’re scared,” the boy says. “I would be too if I were meeting the orphans created by my family’s weapons.”

“Stark Industries has never given weapons to Sokovia.”

“No,” Wanda counters, stepping forwards. “But you dropped them here.”

“We didn’t,” Tony insists.

Both of them pull faces, and the red light crawls up Wanda’s arms as her eyes narrow.

“Honestly! I know exactly where all of our weapons have gone. I have a pretty good memory, you know. But…”

“But?” Pietro encourages.

“Well, my godfather, Obadiah Stane? He was selling weapons under the table. He tried to have me killed, you know. We don’t know where his weapons went.”

Wanda’s face goes through emotional Olympics, and Tony stares at Pietro’s back as they have a conversation between themselves in their language. Tony looks at the pieces of his suit, longingly. When Pietro turns back around, Tony tenses, but instead of fury and accusations, Pietro's eyebrows are raised and he’s biting his lip.

“Take us to him,” Pietro asks. “So we can kill him.”

“He’s already dead.”

A tree to their left explodes, spitting out splinters of wood and shaking the trees around them. Tony cries out and covers his ears, and then tries to run when a pair of arms wrap themselves around him.

“Wanda, calm down. You’re scaring him.”

Wanda screams something back, and the arms tighten.

“Come one. He’s just a child.”

Tony opens his eyes to find Pietro has put himself between Tony and Wanda, who is breathing heavily with her fists clenched at her side. She’s staring at the tree, and Tony understands. She wanted to be the one to get revenge, and Tony prays that he’s not next on the list.

“People are coming,” she says suddenly, looking up at the still empty sky. “The Avengers. They’re close.”

“No,” Tony gasps, pushing himself away from Pietro and rushing towards his suit. “They can’t see me! I’ll be in _so much_ trouble.”

Wanda’s mouth twitches upwards, and she looks towards her brother as Tony tries to piece the suit together. He falls back on his behind when they start to glow red and float.

“Stand up. I can put your suit back together.”

On shaky legs, Tony stands, and the suit envelops him quickly, just in time for the leaves on the ground to rise in the air from the jet’s engines.

“That was close,” he whispers frantically. “Imagine being grounded by Captain America!”

“You’re the most adorable child,” Wanda giggles.

“I’m not a _child._ I’m almost thirteen,” Tony complains, much to Pietro’s and Wanda’s delight.

They’re cackling is drowned out as Captain America, the Black Widow and Hawkeye jump out of the jet, landing between them.

“Ironman, step away. The witch is dangerous.”

“She’s alright,” Tony shrugs.

Captain America turns to give him an incredulous look.

“We’re sorry,” Pietro calls out with his hands up in the air. “We’ve made some mistakes. HYDRA promised that they could help us bring our parent's murderer to justice, but we’re not aware that maybe that was never on the cards for them. Ironman,” Pietro raises an eyebrow in Tony’s direction, “has graciously set the record straight for us.”

Hawkeye’s arms drop, the arrow he had ready for Wanda pointed at the floor.

“We’re not fighting anymore?”

“Not today,” Widow says, “but you two are only part of the problem. What about that android?”

“We’re not entirely sure what it is, yet,” Wanda admits. “Hydra used a glowing box to create it. It calls itself ‘Ultron’.”

“Damn,” Tony mutters. “We have no idea what kind of power that thing holds.”

Widow shifts ever-so-slightly, but it’s enough for Steve to turn on her.

“What?”

“I know someone who might be able to shed some more light on the matter. You two,” she says, pointing a finger at Pietro and Wanda, “are you coming with us?”

“We’ve got nothing better to do,” Pietro shrugs.

“I’ll call Jarvis. Ask him if we can bring a friend home. Hopefully, you guys are good with kids,” Hawkeye says as he pulls his phone out.

“Why do you ask?”

“We live with the son of Howard Stark. Cute kid.”

Tony bites back a smile at the way Wanda and Pietro slyly look towards him.

“I’m great with kids,” Wanda promises.

“I’ll see you all around,” Tony promises, with a wave of his metallic hand. “Gotta go crash a party.”

Ignoring the shouts from the team, he leaves them in the clearing and begins to recount to Jarvis what happened, breathing quickly and grinning broadly.

New friends indeed. Things are about to get interesting.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lot of fun to write.  
> I'm doing some extra work into writing better, so if anyone has any advice, please, feel free to share!


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony goes to a board meeting and things aren't as boring as he had thought they would be.

Tony doesn’t have long to dawdle in his workshop with Jarvis. After a quick check-up, Jarvis hustles him downstairs and into the waiting car, where Happy is smiling brightly at him.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Hey, Hap!”

“You seem awfully chipper for a board meeting.”

Tony’s smile drops and he turns to glare at Jarvis.

“Sorry, Tony, but I knew you wouldn’t go if I told you what it was beforehand.”

Tony folds his arms over his chest and slouches, ignoring Jarvis as he pulls the seatbelt over him. He definitely should have asked where they were going before allowing himself to be taken out of his home.

He watches the buildings and cars and people fly by outside, and his mind floats through what he’s learned in the last few hours.

First, those guys had _powers_. Actual magic powers. Kind of, at least. He’s sure he can dig down enough to find the science in it, but still. One of them is impossibly fast, so fast that even his own detective systems can’t keep up (which is something he _fully_ intends to study and fix at some point), and the other, Wanda, can manipulate energy. Hell, she can _read minds._ There has to be something there that caused it all.

“We’re here.”

Jarvis hands over a shirt for Tony to put on, which he does. He hates wearing suits most of all because it takes away the coolness of his band T’s; He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s boring. Jarvis then hands over a wet wipe for his face, and when Tony leans away from it, scrunching up his nose, Jarvis attacks his face, wiping away any signs of dirt and soot.

“I’m not a baby,” Tony grumbles.

“Then act like it,” Jarvis says with raises eyebrows, handing over a comb.

Tony follows him out of the car, kicking gravel as he goes. He really doesn’t want to have to go in and talk to his dad’s old work friends, emphasis on the old, and talk about his parents and other such matters. He’d really rather just not.

“Come on, Anthony. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Why do I even need to be there? I’m only twelve.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘only twelve’ when we go into a business meeting, but ‘Jarvis, I’m twelve, I don’t need a bedtime’ every other moment of the day.”

Tony kicks another rock before they walk through the sleek doors. They make their way up to the meetings rooms in silence, and though Tony might want to complain about being treated like a child, he is glad to have Jarvis there with him.

“My, Tony!” comes a booming voice as they enter the room. “How you’ve grown!”

“Yes, Gerald, that’s generally how ageing works.”

Gerald chortles and his eyes widen, but he still clasps Tony on the shoulder in a grandfatherly fashion.

“I do not miss the time my children were your age,” he jokes and gives Tony a jovial wink. “Your inner teenager is coming out already.”

Gerald, Tony thinks, is definitely one of the good guys. Anyone that lets Tony get away with being rude is definitely worth keeping around.

“Anthony, son, it’s good to see you here. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let us know.”

Philip pulls Tony into a one-armed hug, and then the rest of the board gather around and offer their condolences. Tony is bored of them quickly, though, under Jarvis’ watchful eye, he remains as polite as he can be. He doesn’t want to be told off when he gets home, and Jarvis making his bedtime even earlier when they have more guests would be mortifying.

Tony’s attentions are distracted when a beautiful red-headed lady comes in, carrying an armful of manila folders.

“Just set those down, doll,” Stanley orders sweetly.

Tony wrinkles his nose when he spots several of the men staring at the girls behind. Why they’d look there is beyond him because her face is the prettiest part. Some of them start muttering about ‘those skirts should be illegal’ and ‘too good looking for her own good’.

“Gentlemen,” Jarvis coughs, “please remember our young guest.”

“My name is Pepper Potts,” the woman announces, “and I am, effective immediately, the CEO of Stark Industries, a position which will last for the next nine years, by which time, Anthony Stark will be of age to take over.”

Tony grins at the way the room erupts into angered revolt. Who knew board meetings would be so much fun?

 

At the end of the day, after the meeting is over and feathers are soothed, Jarvis invites Pepper over for dinner.

“It is probably for the best that I warn you of an interesting array of house guests.”

“Oh? Mr Stark informed me of three.”

“There are more, now,” Tony tells her cheerfully. “One of them is a God from Asgard, like in the books, and two of them are magic. But not real magic. Like, science magic. I’ll figure it out later, probably. But it’s pretty cool. And Clint is from the circus, and he’s really good at shooting arrows, and Natasha is really scary, but she has red hair too, so you’ll be friends. And Steve is really grumpy sometimes, but he’s funny too, sometimes.”

Tony’ continues to wax about the team, and Pepper doesn’t once ask him to stop. She listens intently, sometimes asking questions, but she never doubts his stories. Tony isn’t sure if it’s because she’s indulging him or because she’s aware that the entire world is crazy, but either way, he enjoys being listened to.

“How come Dad didn’t tell me about you?”  Tony asks as the elevator takes them from the garage to the penthouse.

“Well, before his death we didn’t have an awful lot of time together. I was running my own start-up, and he decided that it would be in both of our best interests if he bought the rest of the shares. He liked my leadership style, and I liked his vision. I didn’t know he was going to make me CEO until two days ago.”

“Master Stark has always been something of an eccentrist.”

“When I’m my dad’s age, I’ll probably be the same,” Tony tells her with his head held high.

“I’m sure you will.”

The elevator doors open, and the smell of cooking food and the sound of conversation greets them.

“Tony, you’re back!” Clint cheers.

Tony grins, proud to have been welcomed with such excitement. Clint can always be counted on for mood-lifting. Natasha is sat at the table, chatting with Wanda, while Pietro has made himself useful for Ana, who is standing over the stove, cooking vegetables.

“Young Stark, welcome home. We returned from our mission and were saddened that you were called away on business.”

Thor claps Tony on the shoulder so hard his legs buckle, but Steve is there to rescue him from falling to the floor. With a hand on his elbow, Tony is guided away with Thor and to the table. Wanda gives him a conspiratorial smile, and Pietro stops mixing whatever he’s mixing to wink.

“This is the family, I guess,” Tony says with a shrug, feeling quite proud of Pepper’s incredulous expression. “Welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying my hardest to not be christmas yet, but Starbucks in Korea is already decorated and playing songs, and so it Homeplus. It's extreme.  
> Are any of you doing the Reddit Secret Santa? I'm so excited.  
> Also, if any of you want to follow me on NaNoWriMo, I'm LadyWriteALot. Feel free to add and message about your project! I'm actually on target!
> 
> Also, kudos and comments are always loved.
> 
> Hope you all have a lovely week!!!!!


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is getting used to having older siblings, and the team are still trying to stall Ultron.

Tony _really_ likes Pietro. He’s funny, and he’s fast, and he doesn’t tell if he finds Tony out of bed after Jarvis put him there. He even starts to call Tony his ‘little brother’ and he’s only lived at the tower for a few days.

Wanda, on the other hand, is scary. She can read minds, and Tony doesn’t know how to make his shut off. She hasn’t crept into his mind since that time in the clearing, and she’s even promised she never would, but Tony is still hesitant.

Which is why he’s here, in Wanda and Pietro’s personal lounge, dancing his fingers over his lap anxiously as Wanda brings him a cup of hot tea. Tony wraps both hands around the large cup and sniffs at it curiously.

“It smells like Jarvis.”

Wanda chuckles.

“It’s Peppermint tea,” she explains. “It’ll help keep you calm.”

Tony sets the cup down and looks at it suspiciously.

“Why?”

“Because of that,” Pietro says. “Because you’re scared of Wanda.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” Pietro counters.

“It wasn’t a question, Anthony,” Wanda says gently. “Every time I come into the room, you flinch a little and pull a face.”

“Do not!”

“You do, kiddo. It looks like this.” Pietro looks like he’s concentrating really hard, and when his face goes lax, he looks at Tony with both eyebrows expectantly. “You’re trying to keep her out of your mind.”

Tony slouches on the couch and folds his arms over his chest.

“You’re scared of my powers,” Wanda explains, “and that’s OK. I am too. Pepper has been really helpful in that area, actually. She’s going to get me in touch with the mutants. I’ll be going to live there for a while until I get control of it. Before I go, though, I want you to understand that I would never do anything to hurt you, and I would _never_ go inside your head without permission.”

Tony reaches over again to pick the cup up, deciding that he does actually want something that might help him calm down. It burns his tongue, but he gulps it down anyway in the hope that the effects will be immediate.

“It’s OK that you’re scared, but I want to help you become less scared. So, I made you a present.”

She hands over a small package wrapped in brown paper. Tony is reminded instantly of that scene in Harry Potter when the girl opens the necklace and then is lifted in the air by a curse. He’s hesitant in unwrapping, and a small silver ring falls out with a ruby embedded in the middle.

“What—”

“I video called Charles Xavier and he guided me through the process of making something that would protect you from most kinds of invasion magic. He has a few people there that are similar to me, so he was fairly confident in it.”

Tony bites down on his lip, looking between Pietro, Wanda and the ring. He slips it on his finger but doesn’t feel any different like he’d anticipated.

“Do you want to test it out?”

Tony really doesn’t just in case it doesn’t work at all and she attacks him by accident, but he swallows his nerves and nods.

Wanda smiles in relief and takes his hand.

“I’m just going to try and plant an image of a flower in your mind. Tell me what you feel.”

Wanda’s other hand glows red and her fingers gracefully wield the magic, sending a stream into Tony’s head.

The experience is unnerving. Tony sees nothing, but the ring grows impossibly cold, and there’s a mild thudding in his brain.

“Nothing,” Tony says. “I can—I can _feel_ something trying to get in. The ring has gone really cold, but that’s it.”

“That’s excellent! It worked!” Wanda beams.

Tony smiles back, feeling much less tense than he has done since she moved in. She tightens her hold on his hand and then moves back to her own seat.

“Now that we’re a happy family again, can we go get food? I want one last meal with my baby sister before she disappears across the country to go to a _school_ of all things. As if we haven’t suffered enough.”

 

An hour later, Wanda, Pietro, Tony and Clint are sat in a booth at a McDonalds, eating fries and chicken nuggets with gusto. Pietro, Tony has learnt, has a disgusting habit of dipping fries into his milkshake, and refuses to try, no matter how persuasive he tries to be. Clint, however, is far braver.

“That’s vile, kid,” he groans, scrunching his face up.

“I hope your cholesterol doesn’t get too high, old man.”

Clint throws a balled-up napkin, and Wanda pushes down Pietro’s hand when he prepares to fight back. Tony continues to drink his own milkshake and watches, blushing a little when Wanda winks conspiratorially at him.

“Right, we should head home,” Clint announces. “Tony needs to be in bed in a few hours, and I will _not_ be the one that gets told off by Jarvis because he came back hyped on sugar.”

“I’m not _five_ , Clint. I don’t get hyper.”

 

On the way home, Tony tells a very animated and highly elaborated story about the time his parents took him hiking, and they were chased by a boar.

“I could outrun a boar,” Pietro brags.

“You could literally outrun everything,” Tony reminds him. “It’s not impressive if you do it.”

Pietro is about to argue, but they arrive home, and he rushes out of the car. Tony follows, racing after him. Pietro slows down enough that he’s just ahead of Tony, taunting him. Tony’s laughter echoes around the walls of the garage.

“At least Pietro will get rid of that excess energy. I knew we shouldn’t have let him drink a milkshake so late,” Wanda complains.

“You’re like his mom. Let the kid run loose.”

“Someone has to be responsible. Jarvis can’t take be expected to care for Tony _and_ everyone else that has moved into the tower. You guys would feed him candy all day if left alone.”

“That’s not true.”

“Anyway, Pietro and Tony running around down here is better than them running in the workshop, but it’s still courting disaster. He could—” Wanda sighs when Tony cries out in pain, “—fall and hurt himself.”

Pietro has an arm wrapped around Tony’s waist and is helping him lip over as blood stains the knees of his jeans.

“It’s not that bad,” Tony assures, wincing when he tries to put weight on it. “’tis just a flesh wound.”

Pietro looks pale and worried, but Clint hoist’s Tony onto his back and carries him into the elevator. They ride all the way to the top to the tune of Pietro’s apologies and Tony’s exasperated attempts to make him stop.

“What happened?” Steve says, the moment they step onto the common room floor.

“We went for McDonald's, and Pietro dips his fries into his milkshake and—”

“You drank milkshake at seven in the evening?” Jarvis admonishes, coming out of the kitchen with a tea towel thrown over his shoulder and a cup of tea in hand.

“No?” Tony whispers, shrinking from where he’s still held against Clint’s back.

“Are you lying?”

“Yes.”

Jarvis sighs and signals to the couch, leaving with a promise to grab the first aid kit.

“We’ve been called in,” Natasha says, looking at Tony’s knee and then to Clint. “Fury say’s there’s been another incident with the android. Bruce is on his way to the jet now. We should follow.”

“We’re coming with,” Wanda and Pietro say, stepping forward.

Tony tries not to pout as he watches them leave, and the moment the elevator doors close, taking everyone but him and Jarvis, he moves to stand up. Jarvis, however, has other ideas, and he pushes Tony back down with the hand that isn’t holding the first aid kit.

“I don’t think so, Anthony. Let me clean you up.”

Tony glowers at the TV and then asks Yinsen to find whatever he can about the ongoing incident. Jarvis will understand why Ironman needs to be there, even if Tony’s knee is cut up.

“It won’t work,” Jarvis warns. “You’ve got to be in bed in a few hours, and the team already have extra hands.”

“What if it gets really bad!”

“Then I’ll reconsider. Until then, you need to rest. Don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been staying awake after I put you to bed.”

“Yinsen, you tattle tale!”

Yin’s silence speaks volumes, and Tony is furious that he’s being treated like a child by Jarvis and his AI. He’s _twelve_ for goodness sake. He built and operates a suit of armour. Surely that warrants a little more trust than what they’re offering him?

“Put the pout away, love,” Ana chides as she comes in with a cup of hot chocolate. “If you don’t, your face will be stuck like that.”

Tony leans his head against her shoulder as she tells him about her day in her magnificently calming voice of hers. Before Tony knows it, he’s fast asleep, and Jarvis is taking him to his room to get him ready for bed.

“Works every time,” Ana says smugly. “I’ve got a magic voice.”

Jarvis kisses her cheek as they head into the lounge and watch the TV with mounting horror as the team find themselves in Seoul battling the android.

“Jarvis, can you ask Tony to get a hold of Ironman? Natasha’s missing. We need help.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to make an extended chapter set in Korea, since I live here and it would be fun. However, I'm not entirely sure how to fit it in. *Sigh*  
> Anyway, I finished NaNoWriMo on the 27th! The book is awful but I'm going to work on it and send it out. If anything comes out it, I'll let you all know!!!
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you all have a wonderful week! I'll see you next friday!


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Tony is sent to sleep under the careful handling of Jarvis and then woken again before he even gets the chance to dream. He tries to pull the pillow over his head to block out the ache that the bright lights bring, but Jarvis pulls it away.

“Master Anthony, there is a situation which I believe would fare better if Ironman were involved.”

Tony struggles into wakefulness, kicking away the duvet and scrubbing at his eyes as he takes in Jarvis’ worried frown.

“Whatsit?”

“Natasha has been taken.”

It’s only Jarvis’ hands-on Tony’s shoulders that stops him from barrelling down to the workshop to put the suit on.

“I need to – J, _Nat_ is—”

“Calm down. We need to figure out a plan.”

“Where are they?”

“Seoul, but they’re going to Sokovia.”

Tony runs some rough calculations in his head.

“It’ll take me a few hours to get there. We can plan on the way.”

Jarvis nods, though he doesn’t appear appeased by it.

“Don’t worry about me, J. I’ve got a whole team at my back, right?”

“If you say, ‘what’s the worst that can happen’, I’ll never let you have dessert again,” Jarvis says seriously.

Within five minutes, Tony is set up in his suit, Jarvis on one comm line and the team on the other. Yin is ready to switch off the Team Comm whenever Tony needs to speak to Jarvis alone.

As he flies over the city is chaos, Clint informs Tony that Nat has sent out a message, which is how they know that Ultron is in Sokovia. Steve is talking about a box, and Wanda is trying to explain that it was an attempt to make Ultron a new body. Thor, according to Bruce—who is going in to find and rescue Nat—had gone to find help, and they did not know when he would return. What they do know is that sometime soon, Ultron will likely have killed several thousand people, and they need to be on-hand to stop that from happening.

Tony, who’s brain usually runs at a million miles an hour, does not seem to be able to compute the information he’s taking in. He yawns, wishes he was old enough to drink proper coffee, and then orders Yin to send more power to the thrusters. The sooner he finds them, the quicker he can be of use.

“Ironman!”

Tony lands beside Steve, who is suited up and looking exhausted. Clint is pacing angrily, and Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Wanda and Pietro are stood on the side-lines, and both seems to deflate upon the sight of the suit.

“Dr Banner has gone to search for Natasha,” Pietro explains. “We had this in hand. I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Tony tries not to feel hurt by the tone of voice.

“Captain America asked for my help.”

Pietro turns to glare at Steve, and for his part it’s clear that Steve does not understand what the problem is.

“We need the assistance. Ironman has proven himself capable. I see no reason to not invite him in.”

Pietro looks away, not deigning to reply. Tony has a sneaking suspicion that maybe Pietro is worried, but he files that away for later.

“What’s happening?”

“Bruce is searching for Nat, and we’re waiting for Ultron to make the first move.”

“In the meantime?”

“We fight. Ultron has taken control over an army for Hammer Bots, and they’re attacking.”

“Plan?”

“Attack.”

Tony smirks, and he sets out into the town. The streets ring with screams and the mechanical whirring of heavy machines. Within seconds, Tony has catalogued a dozen different faults in the machines, and he latches himself onto the back of one and rips away the skull cap, pulling out a dozen wires.

“These look important,” he mutters to himself.

With a final yank, the bot drops to the ground, dead. Tony moves onto the next one, but it’s slow going. In the corner of his eye, he can see Wanda using her powers to envelop the bots and then slowly dismantling them.

Pietro, under Tony’s advice, is running from one to the other, ripping out wires from their skulls. Clint and Cap are exclusively saving people, catching cars before they fall from broken bridges, pulling children out of the line of fire. It’s a mess, Tony knows that, and he’d be panicking if it wasn’t for the calming stream of words the Jarvis and Yin were offering.

“You’re doing a great job, Tony, and you’ve taken out more than twenty per cent of the bots already. Hammer has been made aware of the problem and is attempting to regain control.”

“He won’t,” Tony gasps. “The man is an idiot.”

“Anthony, it’s not nice to call people names.”

Tony snaps his mouth shut but secretly doesn’t believe that the statement should be retracted. Hammer is notoriously stupid, and his tech doesn’t even come close to Stark tech. Even when Tony was seven, he was making better products than Hammer has ever put on the market.

“Hulk is out,” Steve announces.

In the distance, there is a rumble of anger, and over the rooftops, Tony can see bots torn in half being thrown upwards, almost as though it was raining destroyed machinery.

“I’m safe,” Nat tells them through the comms. “Fury is on his way.”

Tony isn’t sure what use Fury will be until the ground beneath him shifts.

“Ultron is raising the city,” Steve shouts.

“Yin, what do we do?” Tony begs.

The city goes higher and higher, and there’s no way to save everyone in time. Yin is running calculations, and Jarvis is trying to calm Tony down, but it’s a lost cause now. His breath comes out in a stutter and his heart hammers painfully against the reactor.

“We need to find a way to get the city back on the ground without killing everyone on it,” Tony tells the team. “I’m… what is that?”

Three helicarriers appear on the edge of the floating city, each one ejecting dozens of transportation vehicles.

“Load ‘em up,” Agent Hill orders. “Let’s get everyone out of here.”

Slowly, the streets empty, lifeless robots littering the ground, fallen among the rubble and smoking piles of ash. Thor, Tony notices, comes down from the sky in a flash of rainbow coloured lightning, and just for a second, everything seems to stop.

“Thor, what have you done?” Steve shouts through the comms.

“I have given the mind stone to the body.”

Curious, Tony follows the green blinking dot to where Thor is stood over a metal box. Inside there is a body, though it’s entirely synthetic. On its forehead, directly in the centre, is a little orange stone.

“Cool,” Tony whispers.

“Step away,” Thor warns. “We do not know of its power or its intentions.”

Tony doesn’t, so it comes as a terrifying shock when the body lurches forward, smashing through the glass and rising into the air so quickly that Tony is surprised that there wasn’t a sonic boom. He stares upwards as the _thing_ stops. It just stops.

Slowly, achingly slowly, the thing plants both feet on the ground. His eyes graze upon Thor, and then, like magic, a red cape flows from its back.

“You’re an android?” Tony asks.

The thing turns around cocks its head over so slightly to the side, regarding Tony as though he can see through the suit.

“You are young.”

Tony backs away. He clearly _can_ see through the suit, and he doesn’t want to be having that conversation here when the team are slowly converging on them.

“I am Vision,” he says. “And I am, I believe, here to help.”

Thor is handed Mjolnir, and he gapes at it, and then at Vision, who glides forward, into the centre of a brick pavilion.

Tony is apprehensive to follow, but he’s sure that he’ll be more useful in the middle of the battle than on the outskirts.

From over the rooftop of a building, Hulk comes jumping towards them, crashing into the pavement and leaving a crack. Steve runs around the corner, shield held high and face covered in soot. Clint and Natasha appear at the same time, each looking uninjured, thankfully. Tony is prepared to wait for the others because if the way the ground is rumbling is any indication, they’re about to enter the battle of a lifetime.

“ _Pietro!”_

The cry turns the blood in his veins to ice, and Tony knows what’s happened before he goes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nano is over and it's been a long month.  
> However, I now have less of an excuse to not write.  
> Hope you enjoy! Drop a comment if you want to see anything in particular.


	52. Chapter 52

“ _Pietro!”_

Tony hesitates. He can feel Wanda’s radiating anguish from here, but he doesn’t know where she is, or what’s happening. All he knows is that something has gone very, _very_ wrong. He half turns towards the city, but his body is still facing the rest of the team.

“I’ll go,” Clint tells them. “You stay.”

Clint is gone in seconds, racing towards the buildings and disappearing into the smoky streets. Tony wishes he could join him. But he can’t. His joints are locked, and his skills are needed here.

“Ultron is coming,” The Vision tells them. “We must fight. We cannot afford distractions.”

Terror creeps up Tony’s back, unbidden and unending. His nerves grow taught, and his lower lip trembles.

“His army are many, but I believe we can succeed.”

As if answering a call to arms, hundreds upon hundreds of androids wash towards the concrete pagoda that they stand within. Waves and waves begin to descend upon them, and the team step backwards, forming a circle.

“Jarvis, I’m scared.”

“I know you are, Anthony. I know,” Jarvis whispers. “But stay brave, son. Y.I.N.S.E.N and I are working to take over the Hammer Bots. I’m with you, Anthony. I’ll never leave. And I know you can do this.”

Tony nods, though he knows that Jarvis can’t see him. He takes a deep breath and lifts a hand, repulsor whining, and jolts backwards as a stream of blue blasts away a dozen machines.

His entire body shakes, rattling in the suit like a stray coin in the washing machine. Tony knows that maybe this one is a little bigger than he is. Even alongside the team, Tony doesn’t know if they can win. They’ve already lost someone, and Tony scrunches his eyes closed to rid himself of that train of thought. Things are strained as it is. There’s no sense in grieving.

The battle becomes overwhelming quickly, so much so that Tony barely notices when Ultron touches down. It’s when Thor roars in hatred that Tony turns away from his own fight to see Mjolnir crashing down on Ultron.

Hoards of bots lumber towards them, and Tony tries his best to shoot them away, to grapple with them, to tear out their wires and render them useless, but even in his best efforts, he seems to be failing. More and more come, and slowly Tony feels as though he’s drowning beneath the strength of numbers that they bring.

From the corner of his eye, Tony watches as Ultron wraps a hand around Thor’s wrist and yanks him to the ground. Vision advances forward, and Tony looks him up and down, entranced by the way he moves and the almost human element to his gait.

How can an android appear so human, he wonders. This is an unprecedented leap in engineering, but he figures it would be rude to ask to take the being apart.

“Ironman, on your six!”

Tony twists back into the action with but a second to spare, taking down three robots before they’re able to lay their hands on him. Five more crawl over his seat, pushing him to the ground. Tony struggles against their weight, fist flying into their faces to knock them off. More appear, he can’t stand up, but he tries.

Around him, the creaking of breaking metal, the shouts from his teammates, the fizzle of lightening; it’s too much. Tony can’t take it all in. He can’t distinguish between what he’s seeing and what he’s imagining the end to look like.

In his mind, he see’s bodies of the team. Each one dead. Each one could have been saved if it weren’t for his failures. Blood trickles down the hill their bodies are strewn across, a thin river of his doing.

His stomach constricts painfully, and he swallows down panicked bile, and continues to fight off whatever he can.

But they’re losing. He knows that they are.

Tony looks to his side, and prays that even if he dies, the team is able to save themselves.

Tony lands a punch hard enough to crack the metal face of the android. Two more take its place.

“I’m going to die,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

His body is jerked left and slammed right, hands dent the suit and scratch the helmet. He’s still fighting, but he’s not going to win.

He hopes his death is quick. Like falling asleep after a day working with his dad in the workshop and an afternoon at the park with Jarvis.

“No you’re not,” Jarvis orders. “Yin and I have disabled the hammer bots.”

Almost immediately, the bots drop to the floor, lifeless. Wanda falls into the midst of their battle, graceful as a dancer but as terrifying as storm. Her eyes are rimmed red, and her hands glow with power.

Tony has never seen anyone look so angry before in his entire life. Ultron, Thor and Vision pause to watch.

“Wanda,” Ultron smiles, head cocking to the side. “A pleasure.”

Everyone glances around them, taking in the ocean of mechanical bodies that surround them, dumbfounded. Wanda takes a step forward. Tony pushes himself back to his feet, body crying out in pain.

“Thanks, J,” Tony whispers.

“I love you, Tony.”

“Love you too, J.”

The crackle on the other end of the comms is translated into a sigh of relief.

“The same cannot be said from me,” Wanda growls. “Your reign ends here. Pleasure is something you will never experience again.”

She’s slow and precise in her movements. Tony’s breath catches in his throat, his heart hammering unrelenting in his chest. He wants to reach out, to grab her, to pull her back, but he fails to move. He fails to help.

Wanda looks terrifying. Her hair flails with the sheer power she’s emanating, and Tony finds himself stepping away. His lungs ache from the pressure, his mind swims with fear and his legs shake with exhaustion. But he stands tall, courtesy of the suit.

“You’re brave,” Ultron praises.

“I’m strong,” Wanda corrects.

In one fell swoop, her hand digs into his chest and comes out with a heart. It’s not a heart like that which lives inside Tony or any of the others. It’s different. Cold. Metal.

Wanda crushes the ball of metal and symbolism in her hand and Ultron falls.

Silence descends upon them.

The body at Wanda’s feet twitches, its eyes glow red, but then it’s lifeless. Just another broken machine among the many. No one says a word, no one moves. Only Wanda’s heavy breathing punctuates the moment.

A tear traces the lines of Tony’s cheek, and he takes a shaky breath.

He wishes he was at home, curled up between Jarvis and Ana, drinking a hot chocolate and watching a nice movie. He wishes he felt safe.

“We need to get out of here,” Steve shouts, jerking everyone out of their hypnotised states.

“We need to bring the city back to the ground,” Tony corrects. “At this height, the city falling back to earth will devastate Europe.”

“What are our options?” Natasha asks.

“We can try our best to lower it gently, but we don’t have time to bring in the manpower to do so,” Tony says slowly. “The other option is to blow it up.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of an option,” Steve frowns.

“Then offer something better,” Tony challenges. “Because those are the only things I’ve got to give.”

Steve straightens his back and looks ready to swing, but he doesn’t have the chance.

At that moment, Ultron rises, and Vision acts almost instinctively. He grabs Ultron around the neck and flies upwards, before shooting down into the crater left from the where the city used to be.

“Leave him,” Wanda orders. “He will fix this. He will end Ultron. In the meantime, together, I believe we can put the city back where it belongs. We just need a little help.”

“From who?”

“From me.”

Fury’s voice sends a jolt of nerves through Tony’s veins, and he looks around, as if expecting to see the man there.

“We’ve got carriers around the city, and they’ll help lower the city. We just need you to stop it from rising.”

“Destroy the machine,” Tony says, armoured finger pointed towards Thor. “Use your lightening. You should be able to stop it.”

Thor does not hesitate. Lightening spears towards the box, and the ground beneath them jolts. Tony’s suit keeps him upright, but Wanda stumbles, and Steve catches her before she has the chance to hit the floor.

“Now what?”

“Now,” Fury tells them with a smirk in his voice, “we bring the city down and you all go home.”

Tony’s stomach swoops as the city is lowered. He wishes he knew how the Vision was coping, wishes he could hear their conversation, but there’s no signal that anything of importance is happening.

Tony’s body sags in the suit, and turns to Wanda.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Why are you sorry?” Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow.

Tony feels a smile spreading across his face as tears fill his eyes. He turns around to find Clint holding someone up.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Pietro smirks.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late! I'm sorry. I have no worthy excuses.  
> However, hopefully this chapter will make up for it.
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely weekend.


	53. Christmas

Chapter Fifty-Three

Merry Christmas

 

Tony _cannot_ sleep. He wants to. He knows he’ll be in trouble if he doesn’t. But he just _can’t._ Every time he closes his eyes, he is washed in wakefulness and he jiggles his body on the bed.

He wants to sneak back into the lounge and wait.

He _knows_ Santa isn’t real. It doesn’t make sense for him to exist. He’s never seen him, either, except at the mall. If his mother is to be believed, mall Santa’s are hired by the real Santa, but since none of them has ever told Tony exactly where Santa lives, Tony is suspicious of them.

Never seeing the man himself is pretty solid evidence, but Tony is a scientist, dammit, and he needs proof. If he spots Jarvis putting the gifts under the tree, then he’ll know for sure. That’s the way to find out. If Jarvis puts the gifts there, then Santa isn’t real.

Though, Tony didn’t send a letter this year. Now he’s wondering whether failure to do that will mean Santa, who isn’t really real anyway, won’t come.

“Yin, what happens if you don’t send a letter to Santa? I just mean, like, hypothetically, if he were real, would he still drop off gifts?”

“I have no data indicating either way,” Yin says slowly. “But I imagine he would bring a gift. If he were, in fact, real.”

Tony nods, squirming under the duvet.

“I mean, adults don’t send letters, do they? And they still get presents.”

“That is correct.”

Tony nods again. He turns over and reaches out to move the curtain to the side. He can see into the yard and it’s coated in a layer of snow. He wiggles in excitement. It’s not snowed on Christmas for years, and he’s going to build the biggest snowman tomorrow with the team.

“I can’t sleep!” Tony cries.

He throws back the covers and tiptoes to the door. He opens it slowly, and the orange glow from the living room illuminates the hallway. He steps out, careful to not make any noise. He doesn’t want to sneak up on anyone, but if he can get away with going to the lounge without being caught, he gets a point over Clint.

They’ve had the competition running since the Sokovia incident. Tony bet that he could get into the kitchen, which is just past the lounge, without getting caught. He’s tried several times. Currently, their score is 13-0. To Clint. Tony definitely needs to up his game, but the only route he has any faith in are the ventilation systems, but after getting lost in the vents, Jarvis said he couldn’t go in them anymore.

Tony takes a step forward, grateful for the thick carpet muffling his steps. He waits. He listens. He hears nothing else. He takes another step. He holds his breath as someone in the lounge shifts in their seat. He waits a moment. Another step. Another pause. Two steps. He feels brave, but someone coughs and his heart speeds up.

He wants to shout at his body to be quiet. Hawkeye may be partially deaf, but he’s still able to hear things. Tony isn’t sure how. Barton says that it’s nothing to do with hearing.

Tony takes another step forward.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

Tony screams, tries to turn around, but his ankle twists beneath him and his arms flail as he begins to fall backwards. A strong arm wraps itself around his waist and then throws him over his shoulder.

“I’ve found one of Santa’s elves!” Clint shouts, fingers digging into Tony’s ribs.

“Get off!” Tony squeals between guffaws. “Let me down.”

“Bring him in here,” Jarvis calls.

Tony, powerless to Clint manhandling, sags. Clint laughs, his whole body shaking. Tony rolls his eyes. When they turn the corner, Tony finds that everyone is sat on the lounge chairs and sofas, listening to soft Christmas music while a fire burns on the TV screen.

“You guys always hang out without me.”

Rather than throwing themselves into apologies as Tony feels that maybe they should, Jarvis simply smiles and opens his arms. Tony, set on his feet and with a ruffle of his hair, walks over to Jarvis and settles into his arms.

“We can’t sleep either,” Jarvis whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, how about you ask Steve nicely for a hot chocolate, and you can sit with us until you feel a little more sleepy.”

Tony looks towards Steve, who sighs.

“Sure thing.”

“Doe eyes,” Natasha laughs.

“I don’t.”

Jarvis grins and pulls Tony in tighter to his side, rubbing a hand over his shoulders. Tony relaxes and gratefully accepts a large mug of hot chocolate from Steve.

It warms his hands, and the team talk. Tony listens, content to feel like he’s part of a family still.

His eyes trailed over to the glass cabinet beside the tree. Inside, he can see the Christmas family pictures from throughout the years. Jarvis always brings them out on the 12th of December, when he finally puts the Christmas decorations up.

The pictures start with Maria and Howard stood together in front of the Christmas tree. Howard has his arms wrapped around Maria. In the second, there’s Tony cradled in her arms. The next one has Tony held on his fathers’ hip, and the one after that he’s stood in front of them, smiling broadly, baby teeth on show.

The photo’s show Tony’s growth through the years, and each one makes his heartache. He misses his mom and dad, but so much has been going on since that night that Tony hasn’t really had an awful lot of time to think about it. Learning that he was adopted didn’t mess him up as much as he’d expected it would. Sure, he’s sad, but he understands. And it doesn’t make them his parents any less. They still loved him. He still loves them. Nothing will ever change there.

Tony looks at the final one. He’s stood between his parents, wearing a sweater that Ana had knitted him for the occasion. It was awfully uncomfortable and itchy, and there’s a big T in the centre and patterns of snow all around it. Ana was so happy that it fit him that Tony didn’t bother to argue against wearing it.

“Where’s Ana?”

“Ana is already asleep,” Jarvis says, “as you should be.”

“I can’t help it. I have too many thoughts!”

Jarvis chuckles.

“Share them, maybe it will help.”

Tony isn’t so sure he believes, but Jarvis knows a lot about stuff like that, so it’s worth trusting him.

“I was wondering that if you don’t send a letter to Santa, does he still know what to get you?”

The room falls silent, and everyone turns to look at Tony, wearing weird looks on their faces.

“What? I’m not saying I believe in him, I’m just saying, like, hypothetically.”

“Well,” Clint starts, putting his fluffy-socked feet on the coffee table only for Natasha to knock them off again, “Santa is magic, right? I bet he knows everything.”

“Yeah? How?”

“I don’t know, Tony. Magic.”

“Maybe Santa is like me,” Wanda muses aloud. “He can see things, and he knows what you want to most. If he were, in fact, real, I’m sure he’d be able to give you whatever you wanted the most.”

Tony’s eyes flicker back over the photo’s in the glass cabinet.

“Really?”

Wanda smiles sadly. Clint shifts uneasily. Steve, however, is staring out of the window at the snow.

Tony wonders what he’s thinking about. Likely nothing good. When Tony thinks of snow and Steve, he either thinks about Bucky falling in a hail of snow between white-capped mountains, or Steve crashing into the icy waters and not surfacing against for seventy years.

Tony wishes beyond logic that his parents could come home, but it’s not possible. Asking Santa to do that, even though the man isn’t real, would be cruel. He could wish for Bucky Barnes to come home, safe, to the one person in the world that could help him recover his life.

Tony closes his eyes and thinks _real_ hard on how wonderful it would be in Santa could help Bucky Barnes.

While he’s praying, the mug goes lax in his hand and Jarvis gently removes it from his hand and places it on the table.

“Is he asleep?”

“Not completely.”

Tony is about to argue, to say that he’s perfectly awake, but his eyelids are too heavy to open. He shifts slightly, searching out the warm comfort that Jarvis readily provides. His mind lures him into dreams, and soon, he’s fast asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS
> 
> This is a chapter before Christmas, if you will.  
> On Christmas day, I fully intend to post a short 'It's Christmas' chapter.


	54. It's CHRISTMAS

Tony wakes up feeling warm. It’s a slow waking, for about five seconds, and then he’s WIDE AWAKE.

_It’s Christmas._

He jumps from his bed, pulls on his dressing gown, grabs his slippers and runs to the lounge, putting the slippers on haphazardly.

He can already smell bacon and hear people talking. He’s slept in, he realizes, when he sees the sun shining weakly behind the clouds. It’s almost eight in the morning!

“Morning!” he shouts. “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas.”

Clint rolls over on the couch and grins at Tony, who bounds towards the sofa and launches himself onto it.

“Someone’s excited.”

Tony bounces excitedly.

“Where’s Nat and Bruce?”

“They’re busy right now, but I’ve warned them; if they miss breakfast, I shan’t be making more.”

Jarvis is lying, Tony knows that with certainty. He’s terrible at leaving people hungry, and no matter how inconvenient it is, he’d do his best to ensure everyone was fed.

“Busy,” Clint coughs. “Sure.”

“Barton,” Steve barks.

Clint chuckles, and Tony pulls a face.

“Maybe they’ve got a mission to debrief or something,” Tony guesses. “Or maybe-Hey!”

Clint digs his fingers into Tony’s ribs, forcing a startled laugh from the boy. Tony squirms and tries to kick Clint away, but he then grabs the boy’s foot and dances his fingers over the sensitive skin.

“Stop!” Tony cries out, writhing on the sofa.

“Clint, you’ll ruin his breakfast,” Jarvis warns.

Clint sighs and stops, leaving Tony panting.

“Where’s Wanda and Pietro?”

“Still waking up,” Jarvis says.

“Lame. I want everyone awake and ready to open presents _now_!”

“Anthony,” Jarvis begins.

“I know. Patience.”

Tony rolls his eyes and falls back onto the sofa with a huff. His gaze drifts over to the tree, which is lording over a large pile of gifts. Several of them are things Tony had picked out for the team. Most of them, though, are not.

He tries not to be disappointed when he doesn’t see Barnes under the tree. Not that it would make sense, and if Santa brought him, surely, he wouldn’t wrap him up. That would be stupid.

“Did anyone come to visit last night?” Tony asks as casually as he could.

“Do you mean Santa?” Clint asks, eyes wide as though he’s just seen a cute kitten.

“No. I mean…” Tony glances towards Steve. “Just, anyone?”

“No. Were you expecting anyone?”

Tony fidgets, purposefully not meeting Clint’s eye.

“I just wished for… it doesn’t matter.”

Clint looks as though he wants to say something, but Tony is saved by the ding of the elevator. Pietro speeds out and grabs Tony around the waist.

“No running in the lounge, please,” Jarvis calls.

Tony is already dizzy, but he’s grinning wide as Pietro helps him onto his back.

“Or in the kitchen,” Jarvis adds when it looks as though Pietro is about to take off again.

Tony slides down to the floor as Pietro grumbles about dictatorships.

“Breakfast is ready.”

Bruce and Natasha show up halfway through, looking tired and flushed as though they’ve been in the gym.

“Why would you work out on Christmas morning?” Tony asks, scrunching up his nose.

Bruce smiles, embarrassed, as the whole rooms erupts in laughter. Natasha shakes her head and puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Gotta keep in shape.”

“Is that shape a pretzel?” Clint chortles.

Natasha slaps him around the head and helps herself to some food and a mug of coffee. Tony watches everyone over the rim of his orange juice glass, wondering what they were laughing about. It’s not the first time they’ve done something like this, laughed randomly at something he’s said, and he knows that no matter how hard he pushes, he knows they’ll never explain.

“When you’re older,” Clint had promised.

Whatever. Tony just wants to finish his food and drag everyone to open the presents he got them. Despite not being able to get Steve his best friend back, he figures that what he made will have to do.

Unless, of course, they all hate the gifts they’ve been given. They’d be polite about it, obviously, but what if having to pretend that they don’t hate it ruins their Christmas? What if Steve was also expecting a Barnes shaped gift, and doesn’t get to enjoy his day because Tony mucked up? What if Clint thinks he is childish, and Natasha already has some, and Wanda and Pietro think he’s being awful?

What if, he thinks with mounting horror, Jarvis has only been pretending to like his presents all these years and has just been waiting for the day that he can burn them all?

“Tony, let’s go brush our teeth before breakfast begins.”

Tony nods numbly, his mind running numbly through the millions of ways that the team could react to his work. Jarvis takes him by the elbow and guides him to his room, and then pushes him onto the bed.

“Here.”

Tony feels the warmth of Jarvis’ hand and turns to look up at the man.

“You’re panicking.”

“Am not,” Tony chokes, while realizing that maybe he is. “You’ve always liked my Christmas presents, right?”

“Tony, I’ve always loved your Christmas presents. They’re so thoughtful and clever. Honestly, I love them with all my heart.”

Tony leans into Jarvis’ embrace.

“Are you feeling better yet?”

Tony hesitates and then shakes his head.

“We’ll give it a minute, OK?”

 

The team don’t say a word about how long it took for Tony to brush his teeth. Ana is on the sofa wearing her Sunday best and stitching something. She opens her arms for Tony, and he throws himself at her.

“Merry Christmas, pumpkin.”

Tony’s face burns.

“Don’t call me that,” he whispers.

“What’s wrong with pumpkin?” Ana asks.

“Yeah, pumpkin, what’s wrong?” Clint taunts.

Ana directs a searing glare and Clint’s head melts into his shoulders.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

Tony grins. Ana is the best.

“Ok, shall we start opening presents now?”

Tony bounces in his seat and looks between the tree and the whole team sat around him. Clint appears equally as excited as he does, clapping his hands with a grin, but Steve has a sad look on his face. Tony can’t let it continue. He launches himself towards the tree and searches through the pile of gifts to find the one he got for Steve.

“Here.”

Steve offers a cautious smile in return and carefully, oh-so-carefully unwraps the gift. The paper is left intact, and in its place is a big book on modern history.

“This is very thoughtful, Tony,” Steve says, turning the book over. “Thank you.”

Tony beams at him.

“ME NEXT!” Clint shouts.

Tony excitedly hands him the gift, and Clint spends a moment feeling it and shaking it. It’s soft, and the paper crinkles with every move.

“You got me clothes?” Clint asks, pulling a face.

“Open it.”

Clint tears into the package with glee and reveals a Bucky Bear. Clint stares at it, a thumb rubbing across the fur, and then looks to Tony.

“Wow, Tones, this is… wow. Thank you.”

Tony passes Nat her gift next, a big box. She doesn’t shake it like Clint suggests and lifts the lid. Laid atop of a pile of shredded paper are two knives.

“I don’t know if they’re good, but Jarvis took me to the ironmongers, and I told him what you might like, and he said these would be good but if you—”

“I love them, Tony, thank you.”

Tony passes Wanda and Pietro two presents each.

“You didn’t have to get us anything, kid,” Wanda says, her voice thick.

Pietro shows none of the same sentiment and rips into the first package. He pulls out a T-shirt and holds it up in front of him and then bursts out laughing.

“Jesus, Tony, this is… you’re a funny guy.”

“Show us!” Clint demands.

Wanda unwraps her identical gift as Pietro shows the team the T-Shirt. It has a picture of Tony, Pietro and Wanda on the front, with the words ‘Best Big Brother’ underneath. Wanda’s is the same, only it says ‘Sister’.

Pietro pulls Tony into a tight hug, and rubs his knuckles over his scalp, laughing at Tony’s weak struggle and protests.

“Thanks, kid.”

“Open the next one!” Tony says as he pushes himself out of Pietro’s arms.

The next gifts are not identical. Pietro has a pair of modified Nike Air shoes which will stay intact no matter how fast he’s running. Wanda has been given a beautiful red dress than Ana helped him to pick out.

“Thank you, Tony,” she says, taking his hand and squeezing it.

Tony rushes to get Ana and Jarvis’s present, handing them out and watching as they unwrap. Jarvis smiles as he pulls the paper away from a framed painting that Tony has spent all year doing. It’s not very good since Tony never quite got the hang of art, but it’s a picture of the Jarvis’s kissing while cooking. Tony took a photo on New Year's Eve last year.

“This is beautiful as always, Anthony.”

“I didn’t know you liked to paint,” Steve says.

“Oh, I don’t, not really. I only paint for Jarvis.”

“Well, maybe you’d like to paint with me one day?”

“Maybe,” Tony shrugs. “But like I said, I don’t really like it. I’m not very good.”

“I’d beg to differ, love,” Ana says.

She unwraps her large gift and reveals a brand new food mixer. Tony normally wouldn’t buy her something for the kitchen, because it feels gross to buy her something related to her job, but she’s spent the last few months complaining about the one she uses now.

“Oh, Anthony, I’ve wanted a new one for so long!”

Smiling, Tony then hands over Bruce’s present, vibrating with excitement. Bruce’s present is his favourite.

“It’s a map?” Bruce says slowly. “Of the tower.”

“Thank you.”

Bruce looks very confused, but grateful, nonetheless. Tony thinks that it is exactly that kind of behaviour that means Bruce deserves the gift.

“We’ll go on a hunt for the real gift later,” Jarvis says, obviously taking pity on Bruce and clueing him in. “In the meantime, Tony, you should open some gifts.”

Tony tries not to look too excited as Steve hands over a large box. Tony is about to tear it open when Yinsen cuts in.

“Sorry for the intrusion, but there is a man outside.”

“Who is it?” Tony asks, hands hovering over the gift.

“He won’t say, but he has a metal arm and seems quite haggard.”

Tony drops the box and jumps up to his feet.

“Santa brought Barnes here?” he yells, turning to look at Steve.

“Bucky?”

A video of the front door pops up onto the screen, and lo-and-behold…

“ _Bucky.”_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Christmas gift to all my amazing readers.  
> Thank you all for your Kudos and comments.  
> I hope you all have a lovely day!


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter Fifty-five

 

Tony has been sat in the lounge, presents unopened, with the rest of the team, sans Steve, for an hour. They’ve spent it in near-silence, and Tony doesn’t think he’s moved an inch since Steve bolted from the room in search of his best friend who should be seventy-years dead and is instead the unwilling hitman of Hydra.

There’s tension in the air, and they’re breathing it in. It fills Tony’s chest with lead, and he keeps himself close to Ana and Jarvis. Jarvis has one of his hands, and Ana holds the other. It’s grounding, and he lay his head on Ana’s shoulder.

“This is killing me,” Clint groans, which sends a shock of electricity through the air. “Should we bring S.H.I.E.L.D in?”

Natasha touches Clint’s shoulder, and he turns to her.

“What?”

“I think that maybe we should let Fury know, but we should advise that they allow Steve time alone.”

Clint nods slowly, and then leaves, pulling his phone from his pocket as he does.

Tony watches him leave.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Tony realises his voice sounds small. He tries again. “Barnes, I mean. What’ll happen now.” That’s better. Stronger. Louder. Less terrified.

Natasha is slow to answer, her eyes meeting Bruce’s before his own.

“Well, he’s linked to several… incidents,” Natasha begins, carefully, “and he is likely going to be suffering through many… problems.”

Natasha has never sounded so unsure in the whole time that Tony has known her. He doesn’t like that, not at Christmas. Maybe he should have asked Santa to bring Bucky a few days later? So that everyone could have had a good day and then dealt with this then, instead?

No, Tony scolds himself. That’s selfish.

Pietro gets up, and Jarvis joins him. Together, they gather drinks for everyone and sit back down, quietly handing them out. Tony holds a glass of water, taking measured sips and allowing the drops of condensation run over his fingers.

He watches them in concentration. He tries not to think about anything. Thinking right now is exhausting.

He feels like he has emotional whiplash. This morning, he woke up frantic with joy and expectation. Now, fear creeps through him.

The morning, which had carried far more excitement than anyone could have expected, lulls Tony into sleep. Pietro carries him to bed to allow him some time away from the stress and hushed tones passed between the rest of the team.

Tony wakes an hour and a half later with a brief flash of excitement, having momentarily forgotten that he’d already woken up for Christmas.

“Yin, how are Steve and Barnes?”

“They’re in the lounge,” Yin replies.

Tony doesn’t move.

That man killed his mother. He killed his father. Tony knows he wishes for Barnes to be rescued. He knows that what little torture Hydra put him through – and he shivers at the memory – is nowhere near as bad as what Barnes has suffered. Barnes wasn’t complicit. He was forced. He was destroyed and rebuilt to fit Hydra’s desire.

But it doesn’t make it easy.

And now that he’s faced with the prospect of looking at him, Tony isn’t sure he can do it.

Unfortunately, the decision is taken is taken out of his hands.

Jarvis comes into his room.

“You’re awake. Do you want to meet the guest?”

Tony looks down up at his ceiling, not bothering to even sit up. Jarvis appears at the edge of his bed, looking down at him in worry.

“What’s wrong?”

Tony can’t tell the truth, he knows. If he tells Jarvis what happened, he’ll be admitting that he left that day and kept the truth of his parents’ deaths a secret. It’s a lie, he knows, not to admit the truth, even if he never outrightly said that he didn’t know.

“Rhodey will be here soon,” Jarvis continues, a hand resting on Tony’s forehead. “And you’ve still got presents to open.”

Any other year and Tony would be out of bed and diving under the tree. Now, though, he couldn’t possibly consider the idea.

“Anthony, you’re not telling me something.”

Tony starts to cry. He doesn’t like lying to Jarvis. Jarvis would be angry, and he can’t stand Jarvis being angry either. Jarvis doesn’t hesitate. He wraps an arm around the waist and hauls him into sitting. Tony buries his face in Jarvis’ coffee smelling jumper and just cries and cries and cries.

 

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me earlier,” Jarvis says.

Tony had stopped crying not long after Rhodey had arrived. Between Rhodey and Tony, the story came out.

Jarvis wasn’t angry, but he was dreadfully worried. He was upset that Tony had held on to it for so long, had said little when Tony admitted that he wished that Santa would bring Barnes home, and then help him tighter, rubbing a hand up and down his back.

“I didn’t know what to do with it,” Tony admits in a wobbly voice.

Neither Jarvis nor Tony nor Rhodey know what to do.

“I mean, he’s here,” Rhodey shrugs. “It’s not like you can ignore it. Do you want to ask him to leave?”

“No,” Tony admits.

“Then do you want to meet him?”

Tony shrugs.

“Come on. Let’s go out. Open presents. Ana has been making dinner all day. We can see what comes of this.”

Tony doesn’t have any objections, other than that he’s not sure he can handle it. But they’re right. He’s not sure he has any other option.

They move into the lounge, Tony staying close to Rhodey, almost behind him. Barnes is stood by the window, shoulders wound up tight, fists shoved into pockets and long hair handing over his face. Steve is talking to him in a calming voice, and everyone else is pretending to watch a Christmas movie.

“Tony!” Pietro calls. “Come here. Open some presents.”

“Yeah, Christmas is better with kids,” Wanda agrees.

“M’not a kid,” Tony gripes, ignoring the way his arrival draws the burning gaze of Barnes.

“Oh, sure,” Nat winks.

Tony is led to sit in front of the tree, the fake fireplace radiating heat that fills him. He accepts a box from Pietro, and theb stares at it.

“You’re meant to open it,” Clint nudges him, brow furrowed. “You look real pale.”

A cold hand presses against his forehead. Tony flinches away from it, eyes narrowing.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Natasha denies. She comes in closer. “What’s wrong?”

Tony glances to Rhodey and Jarvis.

“He’s just over-excited,” Jarvis admits. “I’ll get you some water,” he adds, pointedly looking at Tony.

Tony pulls the paper from the box. Inside, he finds a pair of Air Jordan 1 Retro High OG’s.

“Oh, wow,” Tony mumbles. “These are awesome.”

He looks up, and then back down at the paper. There’s no name.

“Who’re these from?”

“Santa,” Jarvis tells him, as he passes a cold glass of water.

Tony smiles, but it feels wan.

Tony doesn’t feel like he’s enjoying Christmas the way he should. Guilt gnaws at him, and he looks over at Barnes and Steve. He can’t be sad about this. Steve got his best friend back, and they’re on the first steps to getting Barnes his life.

That thought is something Tony can latch onto for a solid distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had a lovely Christmas!


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas presents and cliffhangers, from me to you.

Chapter Fifty-Six

The presents are still under the tree by the time Jarvis goes to fetch Tony.

Tony, who has holed himself in his lab since deciding that he needs to do something about the Barnes situation. There are no absolutes, yet, but he’s sure that he can do something to help the guy with his issues.

“Come on, Anthony. It’s time for dinner.”

Tony startles, making a mad grab to ensure the headset doesn’t tumble to the ground and break. Unfortunately, in the process, he loses his balance and tips sideways from the chair. He throws his arms over his face, but before he impacts with the floor, something grabs the back of his shirt.

“Thank Dum-E,” Tony mumbles as he rights himself.

Jarvis takes Tony’s hand and leads him into the elevator.

“Are you OK?”

Tony shakes the engineering brain away and looks up at Jarvis, who seems incredibly concerned. Something twists in Tony’s gut.

“Of course, J.”

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

Jarvis rubs a hand through his hair and pulls Tony into his side. Tony melts into the comforting warmth, closing his eyes.

“I love you, Tony.”

“Love you too, J.”

When they arrive on the main floor, Tony first notices a blur and then he’s yanked away from Jarvis and thrown onto Pietro’s back.

“Don’t make him sick!” Jarvis warns.

“That’s why I’m doing it _before_ dinner,” Pietro argues.

Tony cheers as he’s carried around the house. He knows Pietro is holding back, and his stomach is grateful for it. Still, it’s a great thrill and when Pietro dumps Tony onto the sofa, his chest is heaving from the excitement.

“You alright, kiddo?”

Tony smiles at Rhodey.

“Yeah.”

“You going to open the presents I got you?”

Tony realizes then that Rhodey hasn’t opened _his_ gift yet, and Tony is about to rush to the tree when Ana’s voice rings out.

“Dinner is served.”

Tony didn’t help one bit this year. Normally, he at most gets to help glaze the vegetables or at least is allowed to set the table. He’s given no chance to feel guilty, however, because Rhodey puts a hand on his shoulder and guides him to the table.

The table is groaning under the weight of the food. This year, there are two turkeys, several plates of vegetables, all different kinds of potatoes, bread rolls, and pies.

“This looks incredible, Mrs Jarvis,” Rhodey compliments.

“Thank you, James.”

Wanda comes in a few seconds later and lowers herself into the seat beside her brother. Clint sits beside her, and Natasha beside her. Tony is caught between Rhodey and Jarvis, with Ana on Jarvis’ other side.

“I came when Heimdall informed me that there would be a feast of your culture!”

Tony jumps up from his seat as Thor exits the elevator with throw-out arms and a bright grin.

“Thor! Hi!”

Tony is given a bone-crushing hug in response, and then Thor takes a seat next to Rhodey. There are two more spare seats, and Tony wonders where Bruce is.

“Banner will be late,” Natasha says. “He is helping Barnes to get to sleep.”

“Sleep?”

Tony imagines Bruce singing Bucky a lullaby, and he fights down the hysterical desire to laugh. Nat shakes her head, as though she can see inside his head.

“He needs an extremely high dose of drugs to be able to fall asleep, and Bruce is making sure that he’s getting the right amount.”

Tony isn’t very good at doctor stuff, but his understanding of chemistry is good enough that he can imagine all the tests Bruce is doing. Not too much to kill the guy, and not so little that he’s simply lulled into being unresponsive.

“And Steve?”

“He’s with Barnes. He might join us.”

Tony nods and looks at the empty seats. Steve already has his issues with Tony. He already thinks that Tony is some kind of stupid kid that can’t be trusted with adult decisions. How would he feel, later in the future, when he discovers that Tony let Barnes get away after the man killed Tony’s parents? Will that be another mark against him? Will Steve be angry that he didn’t get to Barnes earlier?

“Don’t stress about it, Tones,” Rhodey whispers. “It’s Christmas.”

Tony nods, trying his best to show that he’s not letting his mind go to the darker places.

“I can’t wait to watch Tony open his presents,” Clint grins.

“He’s opening mine first,” Rhodey says.

“No, he’ll be opening ours first,” Ana challenges.

“Oh ho, you’re all real confident, but mine’s the biggest. I’m sure he’ll want to open that first.”

Tony looks over at the heaving piles under the tree and then to his little family. If he can’t enjoy Christmas for himself, then he sure as hell will try for everyone here.

 

After thirty minutes of eating (or, in Thor’s case, inhaling food to the tune of Ana’s ‘I’m not sure I made enough’), Bruce joins them with Steve at his side. Steve looks cautiously happy and Bruce just seems tired. Everyone one else is chatting happily, and Tony feels like his heart is expanding.

Today has not gone the way he thought it would, but his wishes did come true. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t stoked.

 

After Tony has been forced away from the dishwasher – “It’s Christmas Tony, you can’t help clean up. That’s what Pietro’s for.” “Aw, man.” – and sat in front of the tree. By decree of Thor, who has never experienced a Midgardian Christmas, Tony is forced to open one of his gifts first.

“It’s great, Thor,” Tony grins uncertainly. “Um, what is it?”

“It is a whistle for attracting Bilgesnipe.”

This earns a blink of confusion from _everyone._

“If one were to ever infiltrate your home, you could use it to distract the beast and detain if necessary.”

From the corner of his eye, Tony can see how Rhodey mouths ‘bilgesnipe’ to Clint, who shrugs and in turn, raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“I believe Bilgesnipe are a, uh, well, not _mythical,_ I guess, but a kind of animals.”

“Aye! Giant, ferocious beasts.”

Jarvis hastily takes the whistle and shuts it away in the drawer beside the sofa.

“I’ll keep it there in case of emergencies,” Jarvis says.

Tony rolls his eyes. That thing will be locked away the moment Tony is in bed. For once, Tony doesn’t think he’s being overprotective. He can’t decide whether he’d risk his own safety to see if the whistle would work all the way on Earth.

“Now me!”

Pietro pushes a giant box towards Tony, and Tony rips into the paper with gusto. The box is almost big enough for him to fit in. In fact, he could probably turn it into a spaceship box and play on his x-box with it.

“Open it,” Pietro encourages.

Smiling to himself, Tony stands up to open the box. He reaches inside and pulls out several smaller boxes.

“This is from both of us,” Wanda tells him. “We made it ourselves.”

Curious, Tony sits down with the biggest box of the lot and carefully unfolds the top. Inside, there’s a giant, orange ball.

“What—”

He lifts the ball out, noting the strange change in colour and fleck of light. Inside, there are four smaller balls.

Pietro smiles at Tony’s confusion.

“Open another one. You’ll get it.”

Tony does as he’s told, and the next box holds a little white wall. The third box reveals a yellow stripy ball with a ring around it.

“Is this…” Tony doesn’t finish.

He reaches in and fishes out another ball. Earth. Then another. Mars. Slowly, he finds all the planets, including some of their moods. Each one is made from a plasticine ball and painted intricately.

“You made these?”

“Wanda is in love with Pinterest,” Pietro says with a shrug.

Tony throws himself into Pietro’s arms, and then into Wanda’s.

“Thank you, guys. I can’t wait to put them—”

Tony pauses as his hair is blown back by a sudden gust of wind.

“—up,” he finishes, just as Pietro comes back.

“Done.”

The gift from Steve is a box of paints, and Tony grimaces when he remembers saying he didn’t like art. He makes sure to ask Steve for some lessons so that the man knows the gift is appreciated. From Jarvis and Ana, he was given a suitcase.

“I love it,” Tony says, though he wonders if he accidentally broke his other one.

“For college.”

Tony looks at them both sharply.

“We know MIT have offered you an open place for whenever you’re ready. If you want to take it in September, we’ll allow it.”

Of course, he wants to go, but the idea of leaving Ana and Jarvis, and now the entire team, leaves him feeling hollow.

“You’ve got time to think about it,” Jarvis says. “So don’t worry now. We’ll talk about it after the new year, OK?”

Next, from Clint, he was gifted a bow. This was the only gift that gave everything away just from the wrapping. He wrapped the string and the handle separately.

“Oh, what a surprise!” Tony shouts, earning a full-blown laugh from Clint.

“I wanted Jarvis to see what it was before it,” Clint admits. “Since he didn’t take it from under the tree, I assume it’s safe?”

They both look to Ana and Jarvis.

“He can use it only under supervision, understood?”

Tony and Clint both nod quickly.

From Bruce, Tony is gifted a bound version of all his papers. Bruce’s face lights up in embarrassment.

“You mentioned that your dad would read them to do at bedtime. I thought… well, I figured you’d like them in book form. I’m happy to read them to you if you want?”

“I’d love that.”

From Nat, he is given some hand wraps.

“I’ll teach you to fight,” she says.

“If I don’t want to?”

“You’ll want to,” Nat says, with utmost certainty.

It feels so much like a threat that Tony simply nods.

Finally, the rest of the boxes are simply labelled ‘From Santa’. Most of them are books. Popular YA series’, books on advanced sciences, maths and engineering, and the like. One box holds tea, which Ana adds in is ‘proper English tea’.

“We had a mission in Yorkshire once,” Clint says. “Remember?”

The look Nat shoots him suggests that she doesn’t particularly care to remember. Tony puts that information to the side to pester Clint about later.

There is also a recipe book for famous British foods, a box of Cadbury chocolate, some socks, some ties, and finally, a gift of tools with Tony’s name carved on.

That night, after checking on Bruce’s assessment of Barnes, Tony is sent to bed. Jarvis follows him, and when Tony has finished showering and changing into his pyjama’s, he finds that Jarvis has another gift.

Tony takes it and reads the label.

‘To our dear boy, from Mom and Dad X’

“This might have some of the answers about your parentage,” Jarvis says. “If you want to talk about it, find me.”

Stricken, Tony is only able to nod. That night, laying on his bed and looking up at the glowing planets, Tony wonders if he ever wants to open the present. Maybe somethings are actually best left alone.

Unfortunately, upon waking, Rhodey has some interesting news that might mean he never needs to open the present to learn the truth.

“Your birth mother has sent a letter.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late. I got distracted on Friday and spent the weekend trying to be lazy. Apparently not writing isn't something I'm capable of doing.  
> Since this is the year I'm truly going to try my hardest to get published, there's a very real chance that I'll be missing lots of deadlines on this fic, but rest assured, it will never be abandoned. I'll probably just be a day or so late. Sorry in advance.
> 
> I hope you all have a great 2020, and I look forward to you joining me on this Marvel adventure!
> 
> You're all amazing!


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadness ensues.
> 
> Sorry about that.

Tony groans and rolls over. He’s too tired. He wants to stay asleep.

“Tony, come on. Wakey wakey.”

Rhodey’s calm tones worm their way underneath Tony’s sleep and he pries his eyes open. Frowning, Tony rolls over and glowers at Rhodey, who looks equal parts amused and worried.

“Letter?” Tony repeats, slowly. “From my birth mother?”

Rhodey hands it over, and the first thing Tony notices is that it has been opened. Now that he thinks about it, it’s obvious. How else would they have known who it was from? Regardless, there’s a flash of annoyance there.

“Jarvis opened it.”

Tony nods. He runs his fingers over the edges and then sets it on top of the parcel at the side of his bed. Rhodey’s eyes follow. Tony is glad when he says nothing. He needs that. Someone who will honour his decisions, regardless of what they are.

Tony isn’t foolish enough to think that somewhere down the line, there won’t be _Talks_ , but he trusts Rhodey and Jarvis to give him the time he needs to just process it all. He needs it. There’s a little too much going on for him to worry about that.

Too much going on for him to worry about himself.

No. Barnes is his first priority.

“Come on then, let’s get some food into that belly of yours.”

Rhodey follows this up with a sly grin and Tony squeals. He knows that look. He rolls over to the other side of the mattress but fails to elude the fingers that rage torment across his ribs. Tony’s laughter hurts more the longer it goes on for, and eventually, Rhodey takes pity on him.

“Piggyback?” Rhodey offers.

Tony will be dead before he ever turns down a free ride. Rhodey dutifully turns around and Tony leaps from his bed onto his best friends back. With a soft ‘oof’, Rhodey is off.

“Morning!” Rhodey calls to the kitchen as they enter.

Tony doesn’t miss the way Rhodey and Jarvis share a small, silent exchange. He doesn’t care. If Rhodey is the one to tell Jarvis that Tony isn’t ready, that’s fine by him. It saves Tony from doing it himself.

“Steve is going to make pancakes,” Ana says.

Rhodey lets Tony down on the seat beside Ana. She’s nursing a cup of tea, and for the first time in ages, he sees that she’s still in her dressing gown. Something about it niggles at the back of his mind, and Tony frowns. Why is it important? Maybe she’s only wearing the dressing gown because it’s the Christmas holidays?

Wait.

“You’re not supposed to be working today,” Tony realises, out loud.

Ana sets her cup down, but Tony is trying to swallow his panic. Jarvis and Ana are supposed to be off somewhere, having a vacation under the sun. His parents always made sure to get them one as a surprise, though it never really was a surprise.

“You’re here because of me,” Tony notes, gloomily. “You can go if you want. I’ve got the team!”

A warm, bordering on hot, hands wrap around his own and another touches his cheek, gently turning his face to meet Ana’s.

“Anthony, darling, there’s nothing we want more than to be here with you.”

“But—”

“We can always take a vacation another time.”

“I should have booked you something! Mom and Dad—” Tony chokes, and a lump the size of an apple forms in his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

Ana wastes no time pulling him into her chest, and he breathes in the scent of chamomile and peaches. His chest aches with the heaving breaths, and his eyes sting with tears.

“It’s OK, Tony,” Ana whispers. “You can cry. You’re allowed to miss them.”

The first sob is quickly followed by another, and Tony remains gripped in Ana’s embrace until he exhausts himself and begins to drift into a doze.

“Is he OK?” Steve asks, quietly.

“Just needs a moment,” Ana says softly. “I’ll take him to the couch.”

In the back of his mind, Tony is sure that Ana won’t be able to lift him, but she does. He knows that it’s still her, because her soft dressing gown still rests against his cheek, and her sweet and familiar smell never leaves. As he’s set down on the couch, something warm and soft is draped over him, and he nuzzles into it.

“He’ll be fine,” Ana says, though even to Tony is sounds like she’s trying to convince herself rather than anyone else.

 

Tony dozes for a short while, but Jarvis wakes him up.

“You need breakfast.”

“M’not hungry.”

“You better be. Steve will be pretty sad if you can’t even eat one of his pancakes.”

Tony struggles against the weight of sleep, but it’s Jarvis’s hand that takes the brunt of the effort. Sleepily, Tony stumbles to the kitchen table and frowns down at the small pile of pancakes. His throat hurts, and his eyes are sore, and he grimaces when he remembers that he took an impromptu nap after crying his heart out onto Ana’s gown.

A heavy stone settles in his stomach. The grief for his parents, that he thought he’d mostly bypassed with distractions. The kidnapping, the fights, the new team members. There were more than enough to make it near impossible to even dwell on his loss for too long.

Now, at Christmas, a time he attributed to undisturbed time with his family, the sadness begins to drag at him.

“They’re good.”

Tony looks up and spots Clint opposite him, mouth filled with food and a goofy grin on his face. Tony tries to smile back, but there’s no motivation.

“Aw, come on, Tones. Don’t be sad.”

Tony tries to smile again, to deny that he’s sad.

“Crap, don’t cry.”

As Clint tries to hastily swallow down the impossibly large mouthful, Tony opens his mouth to tell Clint that he’s not crying. Unfortunately, instead of words, all that leaves his mouth is a pitiful whimper.

“I miss my parents,” he says, before breaking down again.

 

The day passes in a series of breakdowns, and by the time night comes around, Tony has cried himself into a fever. Jarvis refuses to leave his bedside, and Ana comes in periodically, bringing dried toast and tea.

At one in the morning, Tony’s fever has crept up to one-oh-two, and Jarvis is becoming frantic. Rhodey carries Tony into the bathroom and lowers him into a freezing bathtub, whispering reassurances.

Tony cries weakly. He hates being sick, he hates that everyone is being kept awake, and he hates that he’s done this to himself. He can’t stop it, though. As Rhodey wets a cloth and pat’s Tony’s head with it, easing the burning discomfort there, Tony wonders if that block of grief that his mind has reserved an entire chasm for will ever leave.

“We might have to take you to a hospital, Tony,” Rhodey says, as Tony sweats into the ice water.

“No,” Tony groans.

“Tony, you’re really sick.”

“I’m fine.”

Rhodey has the nerve to laugh, and in his fever addled brain, Tony thinks it’s a bit funny too. He smiles, but his eyes start to droop.

“Shit – No, Tony don’t go to sleep. Tony? Yinsen, get Bruce immediately,” Rhodey shouts.

“Fine,” Tony repeats, even as he slowly loses all tension in his body and falls limp in Rhodey’s arm. He can hear shouting, panicked voices and a steady thrum of worry, but he feels oddly relaxed.

He just wants his parents back. He just wants to help Barnes. He just wants everything to be OK again.

The last thing Tony see’s is Rhodey’s steadily paling face and Bruce leaning over his shoulder.

And then, he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling ridiculously optimistic about this year.  
> 2020 is barely a week in, and it's already awful in terms of politics, war and whatever, but this is the year I get published, and with that comes the dozens of charities me and my friends have been planning for two years.  
> If there's anything I believe above everything else, it's that if you have a platform, no matter how small, you should use it for the good of everyone.  
> So, to all my readers, I just want to say THANK YOU. Your comments, Kudos', your readership: it's made me more confident as a writer. I like to think that with every chapter, my writing improves. I have off days, but I'm slowly edging towards my personal height of ability.
> 
> You're all amazing people.
> 
> See you next week!


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fever dreams, yo

Chapter 58

 

 

Tony wakes in fits and bursts. He’s never truly conscious enough to speak or move, but he hears voices and is able to determine who is in the room with him when he opens his eyes a little.

Sometimes Pietro and Wanda are by his side, other times it’s Jarvis, Ana and Rhodey. On one occasion, it’s everyone except Steve. Tony doesn’t have the sense about him to understand what’s happening, and he always drops back asleep moments after, eyes sliding shut and dragging him down into his wild dreamscape.

 

_Tony is walking down a cold alleyway, and his shoes are too tight. He’s not wearing a coat, and ice grows in the crook of his elbow. Every step he takes is accompanied by a growl, and it takes him too long to realize that it’s him making the noises._

_There’s a ‘thing’ ahead of him, and he knows he needs to go towards it, but there’s a dead-end and he can’t rationalise why he keeps walking towards it._

_In the corner, where one apartment building meets the next, on the ground slick with rain, is a baby turtle. Tony steps towards it, and it grows bigger the closer he gets. By the time he’s kneeling directly in front of it, it’s the size of a human toddler and carries several distinctly human traits._

_Its limbs are longer than that of a turtle’s, and it’s got its arms wrapped around its knees. It’s also covered in grime._

_“Hi,” Tony whispers._

_The moment the words leave his lips, the alley around them falls down._

_Now, Tony is in the Malibu mansion he found a while ago. It’s completely empty, and the walls are a bright white that hurts his eyes. The little turtle/human hybrid thing is there, only where it was covered in dirt before, it is now clean, smiling, and wearing an orange mask over its eyes._

_“Hi.”_

_Tony falls backwards, tripping over his own feet in surprise._

_“You can talk?”_

_The turtle cocks a head to the side and smiles, bright as the sun and wide as a canyon._

_“Sure, I can.”_

_Tony doesn’t understand why that makes perfect sense to him suddenly, and when the turtle thing stands up and offers Tony a hand, they both realise that Tony isn’t as tall as he was._

_“I feel –” Tony’s hands come to touch his voice box. “I sound like a baby.”_

_“That’s because you are, silly,” the Turtle tells him. “Come on. Let’s go play.”_

_Three thick, green fingers wrap around Tony’s hand and he is dragged across the room, which had been empty a second ago, to a giant ball pit. The turtle runs and flips in the air before diving down and disappearing under the blanket of balls that ripples like water, sounding hollow as they knock against one another._

_Horror strikes Tony’s heart, and he wonders, distantly, why it doesn’t hurt like it normally would when someone he cares about gets hurt._

_“There’s something wrong with the ball pit,” Tony shouts._

_He can’t figure out what it is, but he suddenly can’t walk anymore. He crawls to the edge of the pit and reaches a hand in, only to find that beneath the balls, there is water. When he pulls his hand back, it’s dripping in red._

_Screaming, Tony pulls his arm back, only for the green hand to reach out towards him and drag him in._

 

“Tony! Are you awake?”

_“Let go!” Tony screams._

_“Help me!” the Turtle begs._

_But Tony isn’t sure he can. The Turtle is bigger than him and pulling him over the rim of the pool. After a long time trying, Tony’s body grows limp and he’s pulled head-first into the water._

“Tony, wake up, love. You’re having a nightmare.”

“Should I shake him awake? Ow! Wanda, what was that for?”

 

_Down, down, down Tony goes, past the layer of balls, past the layer of sticky blood, under the blue lagoon, until finally, he can breathe, and they’re standing on the moon, at the edge of a crater. There’s a pool of water and a thin strip of beach with white, white sand and shells of all the colours in the rainbow._

_“Where are we?”_

 

“He’s stopped screaming. That is good, right?”

“It means he’s not having a nightmare anymore. His temperature is still spiking though. We should apply more ice-packs.”

 

_“Dunno,” the Turtle shrugs, looking even bigger than before._

_Tony looks up, trying to find some reassurance in the strange creatures face._

_“What should we do?”_

_“Dunno.”_

_Tony nods and then drops to the ground, landing hard on his butt. He brings a fist up to his chin and sighs_

_“Pretty, though.”_

_The turtle gives him a side-long glance and a smile._

_“Better than the sewers.”_

“Jarvis?”

A squeak of shoes on the floor and rustling of clothes later, and there’s a cool hand on Tony’s forehead.

“You’re awake?”

“I had the weirdest dream,” Tony mumbles. “Michelangelo was there, and there was a ball pit, and I was a baby.”

Jarvis’s hand shakes a little, and Tony smiles, knowing he’s made Jarvis laugh. He chances at cracking his eye open, and mentally thanks whoever had the foresight to dim the lights in the room.

“Am I in a hospital?”

“Unfortunately,” Jarvis nods. “How do you feel?”

“Sick.”

“Yes, I imagine you do. You’ve got quite a fever. They’re running a broad range anti-biotic through you to tackle whatever infection may have caused it, but they’ve been unable to determine exactly _why_ you’re sick.”

“Was it stress?” Tony hazards. “Or… was it cause I was crying?”

“You didn’t make yourself sick.”

Jarvis, Tony is certain, can read minds.

“When can I go home?”

“When you’re better.”

“When will that be?”

“I don’t know, Anthony. But you can speed it along with more sleep.”

Tony, who isn’t much a fan of sleeping, but much less a fan of hospitals, decides not to argue this one.

“Can I have some water first?”

Jarvis nods and moves out of Tony’s line of sight. Tony struggles, shakily, to sit up, but it feels as though his very bones are aching, and he flops back down onto the pillows with a soft groan.

“Don’t try to get up.”

Jarvis is back, holding a plastic cup with a yellow straw in it.

“That’s bad for the environment,” Tony points out.

“Yes, but you need to drink, and it’s easier for you with the straw.”

Tony pulls a face but accepts the proffered straw.

“Small sips.”

Once Tony is hydrated again, he relaxes into the pillow. Jarvis runs his long fingers through Tony’s hair, uniformly cut nails scratching against his scalp, and Tony sinks back into sleep.

 

_“You’re back!” Mikey says, with a bright grin._

_“I guess so,” Tony shrugs._

_Together, the two of them sit on the moon beach, alternating between talking about mutants and building a giant sandcastle._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm not going to have the time to write this tomorrow, so I did it today.
> 
> ... I've been re-watching the 2003 ninja turtle cartoons.


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony comes back from the hospital and decides its time to face the facts.

Tony doesn’t like hating things because his mom said hating things was bad. His dad said that ‘hate’ was ugly. Tony doesn’t want to be bad or have ugly feelings. Despite that, he can’t stop himself from hating hospitals.

“Mr Stark, please keep your arm still. We’re running out of veins,” the doctor complains as he reinserts the IV. “This is the second one today.”

They place a green and white strap on his arm in an attempt to coax him into being still, and Tony hopes that it does. He hates having needles shoved into him. It hurts and he hates it.

“I want to go _home_ ,” he says for the fiftieth time today.

“I know, I know,” Ana coos as she readjusts his pillow.

“But I feel better,” Tony whines.

“I know, love.”

Tony allows himself to be subjected to Ana’s fussing, and he accepts a jello-cup from Jarvis. It’s been like this for three days since he managed to finally break the fever. He just wants to be home watching TV and eating ice-cream. Sure, there’s ice-cream here, but it’s not the same.

“Don’t pout, kiddo,” Pietro admonishes, flicking Tony’s lower lip. “You’ll be home before you know it.”

Tony rubs his mouth and glares, and Wanda pulls her brother’s ear.

“Leave him alone, he’s allowed to be a little sulky.”

“I’m not sulking!”

“Please don’t antagonise him,” Bruce says as he enters the room. “You could reignite his fever.”

“Yeah, don’t antagonise me – wait, what?”

Bruce smiles and he begins to read Tony’s chart.

“You’re doing much better. I think you’ll be OK to come home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is so far away, though!”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Throughout the day, Jarvis and Ana are the only ones to stay. Rhodey, who’s commanding officer has been haranguing him about returning to duty, said his goodbyes that morning. Pietro and Wanda have been preparing to get Wanda into Professor X’s school. Bruce has been working in Tony’s labs and producing new-age medical-grade technologies, which has opened an entirely new branch in Stark Industries.

Miss Pott’s had visited once, but it was when Tony was deep in his fever dreams, and she hadn’t returned, though she left a large bar of chocolate for him and a get-well card. Steve has been mostly at Bucky’s side, and Nat has been helping out there.

The only person who hasn’t visited is Clint, and Tony is trying to get information as to why.

“But where is he?”

“Working,” Nat had said when she came by.

“Working on what?”

“It’s a classified mission, Tony.”

“But—”

“Classified. He’ll be fine, and he sends his well-wishes.”

“That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

Nat simply smirked at him and ran her fingers through his hair until he fell asleep.

* * *

“We’re going home!”

Tony has never heard a better sentence in his entire life. He’s so sick of laying in bed and doing nothing. He just wants to run around for a bit, maybe take the suit for a spin, hunt down Clint – the usual kid stuff.

Tony is forced to sit in a stupid wheel-chair until he was out of the hospital, which he thoroughly did not enjoy. Thankfully, there were no reporters outside, so the transition isn’t publicised. Small mercies, really, because the public really enjoys latching onto Tony when he’s sick.

When he was seven and had his appendix taken out, the world started silent vigils outside of his hospital, and he was young enough to be convinced that he was dying and no one was telling him. He spent his eighth birthday in hospital because he couldn’t get his fever to come down from the stress.

Jarvis probably made it near impossible to know that Tony was even sick. He’s amazing like that.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?”

“Good, thanks, Happy. Hospitals suck though. I want to go home.”

“I’ve got you, Tones. Do you want to make a stop anywhere?”

Jarvis, as Tony can see from the corner of his eye, looks quite disapproving of the offer. Tony, however, really appreciates it.

“Can I get a burger, please?”

Happy winks at Tony and ducks his head at Jarvis’ unimpressed look. It doesn’t stop him from fulfilling Tony’s wish, though.

By the time they make it home, the sun is setting and Tony is rubbing his stomach.

“Thanks, Happy. You’re the best!”

Happy opens the doors for him and Jarvis and follows them upstairs.

“Want to watch Star Wars?”

“Again?” Happy asks, raising a single eyebrow. “When have I ever said no to that question?”

With a cheer, Tony throws himself on the sofa, and Happy sits down next to him.

* * *

It’s the next day that Tony finally looks at the letter and the parcel beside his bed. One from his parents, and one from his birth mother. What should he open first? Who is he the least scared of hearing from?

It’s still early morning, and if Tony had to guess, the only person that would still be awake is Steve. He’s not missed a run if Pietro’s ‘gossip’ is anything to go by. It’s the only time he’s away from Bucky, and he’s usually back by seven.

It’s six oh five. Tony might well be in the only person in the house awake. Except for one person, of course.

“Yin, you there, Buddy?”

“For you sir, always.”

Tony nods, and he shakily lifts the box and places it on his duvet covered lap. Prying the lid off, he finds a thick book and an envelope. The shadows of his hands darken the contents, but he can still see his mothers cursive handwriting on the front of the letter.

_Just delve in,_ Tony tells himself.

He pulls the paper from the envelope and carefully unfolds it.

 

_Our dear Anthony,_

_It is time you know the truth. Your father and I always intended to tell you in person when you were older. We were advised both to wait and to tell you at a young age, but due to our own selfishness, we never wanted to lose that love you had for us._

_At the time of writing this letter, I fear that we have miscalculated. Your love may never die, but your trust is still fragile. We ask for your forgiveness. We love you, and we never wanted to hurt you. We were not ready to tell you, and the person that hurt the most was you._

_Your father and I knew that one day, we may not be around. That is why we are writing this, just in case. We hope you don’t have to find out this way, but your father is a futurist. We have to be prepared for everything._

_Anthony, know that what you are about to learn changes nothing for us. We love you with everything we have, and we will never stop loving you. You’re precious, and our son, no matter what._

_However, we are not your biological parents._

_One day, after a long time trying and failing to conceive, we awoke to a boy on our porch. You were barely old enough to open your eyes, and I couldn’t let you out of my arms the moment you were in them. Had we been religious people, I would have believed you an angel sent by God. You were, and are, perfect._

_I’ll never forget the day you held onto my finger with all your strength. I knew then that you were ours, and your father and I adopted you. You became ours, and we raised you as such. That we were not genetically related meant nothing. You are our son. You will always be our son. Blood means nothing in the face of utter and unending love._

_Please remember this, as you go on. We will always be your mother and father. We will always love you, even if we are not around to show it._

_You are a gift, but you’re more than that. You’re a Stark. We love you, Anthony._

_Mom & Dad._

_P.S. Anthony, as your father, I implore you to talk to Jarvis if you ever find yourself in trouble of any kind. I was told growing up that having feelings was not masculine, but I know now that it was not true. Having feelings, accepting them, made me a better man than my father ever was._

Scrubbing away the tears, Tony lifts the book from the box. The cover is heavy brown leather, and inside there are thick pages, each protected by a thin sheet of cream protective sheets.

The first photo is his mother, holding a tiny baby in her arms. Mascara cascades down her face and curves around her smile. Howard has his head on Maria’s shoulder, and the redness around his eyes offers the tell-tale detail that he, too, has been crying.

Underneath, there is a slip of paper with words and a date printed.

_‘Anthony’s first moments in his mother's arms. 2006.5.22.’_

The second photo is Maria and Howard in an office. Baby Tony is held tightly in his father's arms, wrapped in a blanket, while Maria signs a piece of paper.

_‘Official day of adoption 2006.6.03.’_

Next, a photo of Tony drinking from a bottle held by Jarvis, little fingers peeking out from under the blanket.

_‘Jarvis falling in love with Anthony 2006.6.20’_

The photos go on, showing Tony’s growth throughout his first year with his parents. The day he met Stane, the day he said his first words, the day he took his first steps, the day he tried to feed himself and ended up feeding the floor instead.

In every picture, Tony, his Mom and his Dad all look like a family. There is nothing about them that would suggest they weren’t. It makes Tony’s heart ache.

He wishes his parents never harboured the worry that he wouldn’t love them as much after finding out. He prays his parents had enough faith in their family to know that they will forever be his family, no matter where he came from. Family are the people that love you, not the people who give birth.

What’s that saying?

‘ _The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’?_

Tony is his parent's son, not the son of the woman that had him and then gave him up.

Which brings him to the letter. His finger runs along the edges. There could be anything in here. But he won’t know unless he opens it.

 

_Son._

_It’s a surprise for you that you are not Howard and Maria’s son. I was forced to leave you on their doorstep all those years ago. I was no able to care for you. I did not have the money or the will. I was young, you understand? Barely sixteen, and your father had left me._

_I won’t tell you who I am, because I don’t want it to influence your decision. However, upon hearing of Howard and Maria’s death, I figured I’d extend an invitation for you to come live with me. You would not be without your luxuries, as I imagine you’ve become accustomed to. I am now very successful and rich. I can afford to care for you._

_If you want to live with me, I have included a return address envelope. Simply send the word. I’ll have my people contact yours and arrange a transfer of guardianship._

_Sincerely,_

_Your mother._

 

Anthony lifts the small envelope that fell out with the letter and turns it over in his hands.

“Yin, run this address for me.”

Yin turns on the TV immediately, and it shows a house not far from his Malibu Mansion.

“The owner of the house is Jessica James.”

“The singer?”

“Indeed.”

“Oh.”

Tony really isn’t sure what to do with that information. He pulls a notepad and a pen from the drawer beside his bed and begins to write.

“ _Dear Jessica.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late!  
> I was in Vietnam on holiday and didn't do much writing for this (though I am re-writing an old story that I know you'll love when I get it published). There's also the Coronavirus which has made its sneaky way into Korea and it's causing quite the fiasco.  
> Guys, stay safe. I hope you're all well.  
> I probably won't be updating until next week, simply because this week is hectic and next will doubly so. It's my birthday on Monday, and the party is on Saturday. I've got people from everywhere coming to visit, and there's a lot of extra stuff to do at work, so I'm kinda drowning in stuff rn.   
> Anyway, love you all!


	60. Chapter 60

‘ _Dear Jessica,_

_It’s relatively new to me that Howard and Maria are not my birth parents. It’s come as an unpleasant shock, as I’m sure you can imagine. I’ve been off-kilter since finding this out. And I wasn’t really sure what to think._

_However, I know what to think now._

_I don’t want to live you. Thank you for your offer, but I’m happy where I am. Even without my parents, because they are undoubtedly my parents no matter our DNA, I have my family here. Blood means nothing. Family are the people that are there, not the people you share biology with._

_I’m not blaming you. I might not understand what you went through. I can really only imagine what it must have been like to learn you were pregnant at such a young age. To be alone and unable to care for a baby can’t have been an easy thing to deal with. I’m happy that you’ve found peace and are in a better place than before._

_I would like to meet you. Just to know. Just to see. But I won’t live with you._

_Sincerely, Tony.’_

Tony puts the pen down and re-reads the letter. It’s taken an hour and a half, and he’s still not happy with it. However, if the growing pile of paper balls littered around his trash can is anything to go by, he’ll probably never get it perfect.

Whatever, Tony thinks. English was never his best subject, and he’s not sure how to put down emotions and feelings that he’s unfamiliar with. It’ll have to do.

Now all he needs to do it send it.

“Yin, can you scan this and have it sent to the address?”

“Of course.”

A picture of the letter appears on the screen, and Yin even adds a little ‘letter-sending’ animation for effect. Tony sighs, and as he breathes out, a weight settles in his stomach.

“That was a bad idea.”

The day from then on is hard to follow. Tony, no matter how hard people try, remains near-silent. His mind is running through an entire list that points out every reason that he should not have sent the reply so quickly. He should have sat on it and thought it through, but instead, he couldn’t restrain himself.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“Anthony, please talk to me,” Jarvis all but begs. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Tony mumbles, knees to his chest as he stares at the wall.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Clint comments as he walks from the elevator to the kitchen. “Really convincing.”

Tony burrows further into his knees.

“Not helping, Master Clint.”

“Sorry, not sorry.” Clint pauses and then turns away. “I thought we agreed that you’d call me Clint.”

“We did. Until you chose to antagonise sir.”

“Well.” Clint frowns and looks down at the floor. “Fine.”

Tony smirks, looking to Jarvis to find that he’s smiling a little too. The fridge is opened and then the clattering of plates and cutlery. Tony turns around to watch as Clint starts to dish out some stew and put it in the microwave.

“Nat will kill you if she finds out you’re eating her food.”

“She’ll never know.”

“If no one tells her, you mean. And I have no reason not to tell.”

“Snitches get the cold shoulder, Tony,” Clint says as the microwave whirs behind him.

Tony grins, and Clint glares back.

“You wouldn’t.”

Tony’s mouth stretches wider.

“Damn. What do you want?”

“An I owe you?”

Clint taps his foot on the floor and crosses his arms. A few silent seconds pass and then his arms drop to his side.

“Fine.”

Tony settles back against the sofa. Jarvis reaches out and takes his hand.

“Tony, what is wrong?”

“I read the letters. Both from my parents and from Jessica.”

“And?”

“And?”

“You know that I know you better than that, Anthony.”

Tony’s shoulders sag.

“I wrote back.”

Jarvis squeezes his hand.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not yet,” Tony admits. “Is that OK?”

“Of course. You just tell me when you are ready, and I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Jay.”

Tony crawls into Jarvis’ waiting arms and allows himself to be held tightly. Jarvis gives the best hugs, Tony decides. He’s warm, strong and will never let go if Tony was so inclined to ask to be held forever.

 

Days pass, and although Tony checks his email periodically, he hasn’t received a reply from Jessica yet.

“Maybe she’s angry?” Tony guesses.

“She’d have no right to be,” Rhodey says over the phone. “She should understand what’s going on with you, and respect that you don’t want to live with her.”

“But maybe—”

“Tony, how many ‘but maybe’s’ have you allowed yourself to suffer through?”

Tony purses his lips and cracks his hands for something to do.

“Exactly,” Rhodey huffs. “Don’t let yourself focus on it. Besides, didn’t you say she was some crazy successful singer now? I don’t mean to sound harsh, but maybe she’s just really busy right now?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? Kid, you know I’m the king of right.”

Tony laughs, and shrugs.

“Sure, I guess so. I’ll give you that title for now.”

“Thank you. Anyway, sorry Tones but I have to go. Duty calls.”

“K, Rhodey. I’ll speak to you later.”

“Keep me updated?”

“Yeah.”

Tony hangs up and flops back on his bed, staring up at the solar system. He really does have the greatest family. Endlessly supportive and loving no matter what. They’re the best.

“Dr Banner is asking after you.”

“Thanks, Yin. Tell him I’m on my way to… uh, where is he?”

“In the ‘Christmas Lab’.”

Tony jumps up from the bed and pulls on a too-big sweater – courtesy of Rhodey – and heads downstairs. Bruce is waiting for him with a big smile, holding out a white jacket, a pair of gloves and a pair of goggles.

Tony scrunches up his nose but reluctantly puts them on.

“What is this about?”

“Well,” Bruce clears his throat. “I know you’re interested in M.I.T. and I thought that maybe you would like to start your ‘signature project’ to help you get in.”

Tony rears back as though burned.

“Oh crap, I forgot about that.”

“First, please watch your language. Second, there’s been a lot going on for you. This is both a distraction and a way forward. I wanted to offer my help.”

“Thanks, Bruce. What do you have in mind?”

“I thought I’d leave that up to you.”

Tony nods and fills his cheeks with air as he considers what he wants to do. He puffs out the air.

“I want to make another robot. Dum-E needs a friend, after all.”

“I’ll do what I can to help.”

Tony grins, bouncing on his toes as he rushes forward to grab a large sheet of blueprint paper.

“This’ll be so much fun!” he crows.

“And after this, we need to look at something called ‘The Accords’,” Bruce says. “It’s all red-tape, but it involved Ironman.”

“Oh, cool.”

Bruce pulls a face, but Tony is too focused on the task to notice. What damage could some bureaucracy cause anyway?                                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels like forever!  
> My birthday was great, and thank you for the messages! I appreciate it so much!
> 
> With the Coronavirus on the loose, I hope you all stay healthy. There's a very real chance that one of the kids at my school is going to get, which means the place'll shut down for a while. Downside, no pay, upside, more time to write! I'll keep you updated there.
> 
> Anyway. This is the 60th chapter! Wild times. Which means that we're on the downward slide to the end. That means more Ironman and less family fluff, I'm afraid, so strap in cause things are gonna get stress!
> 
> Love you all! See you next week.


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Accords

Thaddeus Ross is not a nice man; a fact that Tony deduced in a matter of seconds. The man walks into Tony’s tower, stands at the head of Tony’s table and then has the absolute gall to lecture them all about how their saving lives needs to be done within restricted, government-controlled parameters.  
But the worst thing about General Ross isn’t his dense sense of superiority, nor is it the way he tried (and failed) to send Tony away from the spontaneous meeting, and it’s not even that he tried to dismiss Jarvis as though he were some lowly life-form.  
No.   
The worst thing is that Tony agrees with what he’s saying.  
“Since the conception of the Avengers, the amount of dangerous people appearing on the streets has more than doubled.”  
“You’re blaming us for what other people are doing?” Clint asks, leaning back into the table with his eyebrows drawn together.  
“It’s cause and effect, Agent Barton. You created a force that people want to push against.”  
“So, what, you think we should just have not become a team? I guess you’d rather we simply didn’t save New York?”  
“That’s not what he’s saying, Steve.”  
All eyes turn on Tony, but he learnt from the best. This is a business meeting, and for people to take you seriously, you need to take yourself seriously.  
“He’s saying that while we’re not at fault, we do have a responsibility. Working within the confines of the government sounds bad, but it really is for the best. We—you went into Sokovia with absolutely no permission and look at the mess you all left behind.”  
“We were saving lives. We did what we had to do.”  
“That’s not the point, though. The point is that you participated in an international incident.”  
Tony sees the moment that fury flares in Steve’s eyes. At that moment, when he realises that Steve hates him, Tony wishes he could swallow his words. But then, he shakes it off. No. He doesn’t owe Steve his agreement.  
“The Accords are not a ball and chain,” Ross continues, nodding towards Tony. “It’s a set of rules supplied by the government, much like they have for every other job in the world. Barton and Romanoff work within the limits of what S.H.I.E.L.D. sets out for them because, without rules, the world would be in chaos.”  
“Even the police have to adhere to the law, Steve.”  
“You’re just a child, Tony. How could you possibly hope to understand the complications in this? This sounds like Bucky would have to go in for a psychological evaluation. If he doesn’t pass, what’s to say they won’t keep him in. And think about everyone else. Ironman! He’d have to reveal his identity. You don’t understand this.”  
Bruce looks like a coiled spring, ready to drag Tony out of the room, while Natasha is throwing a murderous glare towards Steve.  
“Do the accords demand all heroes reveal their identity?”  
“Not at all. There will need to certain agreements met, obviously, as well as in-person meetings, but an identity can be kept secret in certain situations.”  
Tony nods, eyes boring into Steve.  
“And in regard to Barnes, what do you think may happen there?”  
“Captain Rogers is correct in saying that Mr Barnes will be subject to a psychological evaluation, but only if he decides to join the Avengers.”  
A chair scrapes against the ground as Tony stands up. Steve watches, unforgiving gaze fixed purposefully on Tony.  
“I’ll read through this and offer my useless opinion. My advice is that no hasty decisions are made. None of us has read this through, yet and we really don’t have the sense to make any decisions. General Ross, will me or the team be able to send you questions in regard to the Accords? Will we able to request changes?”  
“My team and I will be prepped to answer all questions you may have. Furthermore, as the papers are not an official document yet, we would need to have lots of space for amendments and discussions.”  
With that, Tony leaves.  
***  
“Yin, put some music on and find the schems for the Binary Augmentation Retro-Framing.”  
“B.A.R.F. software is being sent to monitor station 2.”  
“And tag a note to it saying, ‘change name’.”  
“Done.”  
Trembles of anger run through Tony. He hasn’t forgotten what he heard Steve saying about him all those months ago. He knew that Steve thought less of him because of his age, but he’d stupidly thought that maybe he’d managed to change Steve’s mind. He’d naively assumed that he’d proven himself to be anything but a liability.  
“And YIN? Set up an interview with MIT. I want to see if they’ll let me enrol for this August.”  
It’s seven months away. In that time, Tony knows that he can make himself an attractive candidate in that time, and help the team with the accords. If Steve thinks Tony is just a stupid baby who can’t do anything without daddy’s guiding hands, then Tony will prove him wrong.  
Tony sets himself down in front of his computer and pulls a drawing on wheels to his left side. Maybe BARF will be his Prize Pig in his farmyard of amazing inventions.  
Plus, Tony thinks with a smile, if anyone is going to benefit from his extraordinary therapy session, it’ll be Barnes.  
***  
“Tony, Jarvis and Ana are worried about you.”  
It’s Natasha. So far every member of the team has come down except for her and Steve. It’s a dirty trick, sending the scariest person on the planet to corral him out of his lap.  
“I’m fine,” Tony murmurs.  
“You’re not. You’re tired, you’ve not been eating, and you’ve not been washing either. Honestly, Tony, it smells like an all-boys dormitory in here.”  
“First of all, I am eating.”  
Nat looks pointedly at the slew of plates on the desk behind her. Granted, most of it didn’t get eaten, but sue him. He wasn’t hungry.  
“Alright. But as for the washing, I don’t need to be clean to be a genius, do I?”  
“Tony, come upstairs and take a shower, eat a real meal and then sleep.”  
“No.”  
“What is this about?” Nat asks, stepping closer. “Is this about Steve.”  
Against his own wishes, Tony hisses at the name and turns back to his computer.  
“It is. Oh, Anthony, don’t hold it against him. And if you can’t help but do that, then don’t hold it against the rest of us. I, for one, believe in the Accords.”  
“You do?”  
“Absolutely.”  
That brings Tony’s head up. He turns to look at Nat and see’s that she’s very serious.   
“Oh. But Steve—”  
“Does not speak for the whole team. He’s being driven by emotions, but hopefully once he’s read it—”  
“He’s not read it yet?”  
“He’ll come around. And if he doesn’t, I’ll make him.”  
Tony still feels the ugly tendrils of anger grasping at him, but when Nat holds out her hand, Tony can’t help but fit his own in. Her skin is warm, and he realises that his hands are sweaty and dirty. Heat prickles at his neck and tinges the edges of his ears. He’s holding a pretty ladies hand after not showering for a week. His mother would be horrified.  
“You owe me ten bucks, Barton,” Nat calls as they step out of the elevator.  
“You got him to come out? Oh, man!”  
Tony ignores the little squabble as he locks eyes with Steve. There’s no trace of the anger now, but Tony can’t simply turn off the memory. Steve, a real-life hero, had looked at Tony like he was trash.  
“Tony.”  
With a jerky shake of his head, Tony steps away from Nat and rushes into his room, closing the door and resting against it for a moment.  
He’s not ready to face Steve. It’s a good thing that it’ll take a long shower to get rid of the grim that clings to Tony’s body like a second skin.  
***  
Tony hasn’t felt this fresh in a long time, and the hug that Jarvis gives him helps him settle his nerves. He doesn’t like worrying Jarvis and Ana. It’s not fair. But they understand that he needs time away from everything sometimes. Unfortunately, when Tony falls into a rhythm, he finds it hard to pull himself out.  
“Let’s get some food in you, and then tuck you in.”  
“Jarvis,” Tony begs, ducking his head so that no one can see the furious blush spreading across his face.  
When Tony chances looking up, Nat is thankfully still talking to Clint and likely didn’t hear Jarvis talking to him like he’s a baby.  
Dinner that night is a cottage pie. Tony is given an extra-large helping, and he’s barely able to make a dent in it before his eyelids grow impossibly heavy. It becomes a struggle to stay awake, his fork falling back onto the plate before it reaches his mouth more times that he can count.  
“Ok, how about you finish the food tomorrow, Tony. Clearly you need sleep more than you need food right now.”  
Tony responds by falling asleep at the dinner table, saved from putting his face in the food by Barnes, who had stepped onto the floor after lots of urging from Steve.  
“Thank you, Mr Barnes,” Jarvis says. “I’ll carry him to bed.”  
“I’m happy to carry him for you.”  
Jarvis and Barnes walk into Tony’s bedroom, and Barnes gently lays Tony down on the bed. Tony doesn’t even stir. He simply curls into himself, and sighs.  
“Thank you for your help, Mr Barnes. I’ll take it from here”  
***  
When Tony wakes up, almost seventeen hours have passed, and the tower quiet. He’s inexplicably still tired, but he forces himself out of bed. His mouth is dry.  
Stumbling into the kitchen, Tony uses his memory to find a cup in the darkness. He fills it with water and takes a sip, the water soothing his mouth.  
His sleepy calmness is broken when someone coughs and Tony jumps so hard that the cup slips between his fingers.  
“Who’s there?”  
“Sorry.”  
The lights come up, and Tony glowers at the ceiling.  
“Unbelievable, Yin. Do you want to give me a heart attack? Jesus.”  
Barnes looks lost, but Tony takes pity. The man is still learning his way around normalcy, and Tony’s rambling at the ceiling can’t be helping with that much.  
“Sorry,” Barnes mutters.  
“Don’t worry. That’s why I’m only allowed to use plastic cups!”  
The puddle on the floor is growing, and Tony hastily reaches onto the counter for a towel, which he throws on the floor. Placing the cup in the sink, Tony finishes drying the floor and then moves to sit next to Barnes, who seems stiff.  
“How’re you settling in?”  
“I know you,” Barnes mutters. “We’ve met. More than once. I know who you are.”  
“Well, sure, we met on Christmas Day, remember.”  
“No. Before than.” Barnes sounds lost in thought, a dreamy look coming over his face. “There was a car.”  
There’s a sharp intake of breath, and then next thin Tony knows, he’s hiding under the duvet in his room.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *for whatever reason, trying to upload from my phone is impossible. I’ll fix the formatting when I’m at my desktop tomorrow.
> 
> It’s been a long week, so writing time has been limited. I’m rewriting and old manuscript that I hunk your you'll all love, so I’ll let you know when that’s available.  
> Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day! I spent mine with my cat and a beer.


	62. Chapter 62

If Tony is honest with himself, he’d rather Barnes _didn’t_ remember killing his parents. It puts a wrench in every work Tony has going. From Ironman to the death of his parents. Now is the absolute worst time for Steve to learn the truth.

At the end of the day, though, Tony has little choice from now. Barnes holds all the cards, and it’s utterly dependent on what he tells people.

_Please don’t tell Steve, please don’t tell Steve, PLEASE don’t tell Steve._

Falling asleep is impossible now. Jarvis will be awake in a few hours, and Tony check his inbox again. Nothing from Jessica. Yet, at least. She’d sounded so enthusiastic in her letter, though there’s a chance he misread it. Maybe she was just being polite?

 _Whatever_ Tony thinks, _I’ve still got Jarvis and Ana._

Netflix goes on, and Tony falls asleep to the sound of Brooklyn 99’s Halloween heists.

 

***

 

“Anthony, I wanted to talk to you.”

Tony’s hand tightens around his juice box as Steve pulls a chair out. Apple juice squirts from the straw, and Steve wastes no time grabbing a cloth of cleaning it up.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t worry about it, Tony. I’m actually here to apologise to _you_. I realise I was really rude in the meeting, and I had to right to talk down to you like that. I just think that I allowed the stress to get to me.”

“Oh.”

If Tony had been expecting anything from Steve, it was a mixture of anger at Tony’s involvement with Barnes, and more talking down to. This is a nice surprise.

“Obviously, the meeting was no place for a boy of your age, and I should have realised what it wouldn’t all make sense to you.”

_Oh._

Tony rolls his eyes, not caring that Steve can see.

“Have you read the accords yet?” Tony challenges.

“I’m aware of what they’re saying.”

“Did you read them?”

“No.”

“Then you have no idea. And you’re also forgetting that by distancing yourself from them, you’ll have no chance to change anything. Laws are made through cooperation and communication.”

Steve smiles, as though Tony has said something sweet, which is the last straw. Tony didn’t become a genius by sitting back and letting people treat him like he was some kind of stupid child. He needs to show Steve that he’s smarter than he’s being given credit for.

“I’ve read it, Steve, and I know what needs to stay and what needs to go. I’ve got experience negotiating and can probably help. But not if you insist on treating me like I’m a child.”

“Anthony, you _are_ a child.”

“I’m also a genius who has been watching my dad do business for years. I’ve watched my mother dominate rooms with her exceptional social skills. I’ve more than proven myself, and you’re the only one who doesn’t want to see it.”

With blood surging through his body, Tony feels overwhelmed. He’s not sure if it’s fear or adrenaline, but either way, he wishes Jarvis would take him to the park, like he used to. That always helped with the excess energy. Now, Tony can only try and calmly storm away before Steve says something else that ruins everything.

How can a man held in such high regard by _everyone_ be such a pompous ass?

“Anthony.”

Lurching to a sudden stop, Tony shivers at the sound of Barnes’ voice.

“Barnes.”

Tony turns slowly, trying to take the time to really pull himself together. His shaking hands dig deep into his pockets, and his teeth are clenched tight in an attempt to hide the naked fear he feels.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared.”

Barnes nods, stiff and uncertain.

“What’s up?” Tony asks, trying to sound uncouth.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m listening.”

Barnes nods again and then looks around them, checking to ensure they were alone. Tony appreciates that he had the foresight because it means he doesn’t want others to hear any more than Tony does.

“I think I’m remembering some things. I…” Barnes gulps. “I’m remembering things that I don’t understand. Therapy isn’t helping much. Steve… he’s… I think I need something else.”

“Something else?”

“Banner mentioned something about you being a genius.”

“I am.” Tony feels no shame in his pride. “What of it? What’re you asking?”

“I guess I’m asking for help.”

Shock speeds through Tony’s body.

“Oh.” Tony waits a second. “Really?”

“If it’s OK with you. I know you’re busy, so I’d hate to be—”

“I’m OK with it. I—I’ve actually been working on a therapy… thing. For you. Well, also for MIT, because you gave me the idea—I mean—”

Groaning, Tony spots the coffee machine and figures that now is as good a time as any to start drinking coffee.

“I’m not sure how long until it’s ready,” Tony explains as he starts to fill the basket with coffee. “But I can definitely keep you in the loop. I’ve set myself the deadline of next month, but if I cut out some of my other duties, just for now, and nothing major comes up, I guess I can get it done in a week and a half. That’s obviously dependant on whether Jarvis _lets_ me work overtime because if he doesn’t then that’s at least a week added on ‘cause of all the _sleeping_ and breaks and eating or whatever. But maybe if I sneak back down after he puts me to bed, I can do it in a week at five days, rather than a week at seven. Also, ew.”

Tony sets the coffee to the side with a grimace and turns to face Barnes, who’s watching Tony as though he’s a robot.

“What?”

Feeling self-conscious, Tony looks himself over.

“You talked a lot.”

“Sorry, I do that.”

“It’s ok. Most people don’t talk around me anymore. I forget what they say anyway.”

“Not for much longer. I promise.”

With a nod and an almost smile, Bucky leaves.

“Yin, has Ross said anything?”

“He’s made a preliminary date with the UN for the official signing. It will be in Vienna, and the King of Wakanda will be there.”

“Where the hell is Wakanda?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... my city is about to go into lockdown as the cases of the virus rise exponentially. We're not entirely sure what's going on, but the streets are mad empty and everyone is stocking up in prep.  
> Put simply, things are wild rn.
> 
> But I bring you a new chapter!


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh

“Where the hell is Wakanda?” Tony says aloud, trying to run through every country he is aware of.

Ever since he was young, Tony has studied maps with his father. They used to play a game where they would try to travel to every country in the world in under three years. Tony never got the hang of it, as he always wanted to see the big things that were on offer. The Taj Mahal in India, Gyeongbok Palace in South Korea, The Elizabeth Tower in England.

Never has he ever come across a country called Wakanda.

“Wakanda is a self-isolated country in East Africa.”

Yin projects a map of Africa on the table and zooms into a small part of East Africa, showing a little country glowing.

“They were previously thought of as being a poor, but self-contained country, but after some digging - and some creative methods to get through their firewalls - it has come to light that they have sole access to a metal called ‘Vibranium’. Its unique properties include the ability to absorb, store and consequently release kinetic energy.”

The proud smile that had been growing at Yin’s growth falls into confusion.

“Cap’s shield came from Wakanda?”

“The shield itself was made in America. It appears that your grandfather was invited to visit, which was a great honour, and he stole some Vibranium in order to create the weapon.”

Rocking on his feet with a frown, Tony hums to himself.

“Fits with everything I’ve heard of dear-old Grandad,” Tony muses. “Do they know?”

“I am unable to discern whether they are aware of the theft, or what the stolen goods were used for.”

In a split-second decision, Tony nods and enters the elevator, pressing a button to go to his lab. His mind whirs with potential ways forward from here, including asking Ross to let him attend the UN meeting. Chances are, he won’t be allowed. He may be internationally recognised as a genius; he’s still considered a child. If the conversation with Steve is anything to go by; people will look at his age before his achievements.

“Let’s slip a message through their systems, OK Yin? Tell them I want to talk to someone if they’re willing. Make sure they know it’s friendly.”

“Done.”

“While we wait for a response, let’s bring up the specs for BARF.”

“Note tagged to the project reads ‘find a better name’.”

“Keep it there. I don’t have time to lend my brain to naming things.”

“Of course, sir.”

 

* * *

Hours disappear without a flicker of recognition from Tony. He’s so deep in the project that time passes indiscriminately of his bodily needs. It’s not until Jarvis places a hand on his shoulder that he’s drawn back into the world around him. The walls of his lab fall back into place with a slam, and hunger gurgles in his stomach.

“Oh.”

“Let’s get you some dinner,” Jarvis says.

Upstairs, Clint and Pietro are helping Ana cook, though she seems more flustered than usual, so Tony guess that ‘helping’ may not be how she would describe their interference.

“Put down the knife, Clinton,” she demands. “Pietro, please don’t run in the kitchen.”

“If you make Ana angry while she’s cooking, then I won’t testify against her when she poisons your food.”

Everyone turns around simultaneously, and Ana gives him a cheeky wink.

“Tony!”

Pietro speeds to the seat beside where Tony is settling down, and Clint grins lopsidedly at him as he relinquishes his hold on the knife and sits on Tony’s other side.

“You’re covered in grease, Anthony,” Ana admonishes. “Go wash up.”

With a groan, Tony drags his feet to the nearest bathroom to wash his hands. When he looks up, his face pulls into a grimace. How did he get black smears by his eye? And his _nose_? Splashing his face, Tony then scrubs his skin with soap, and then he has to use toilet paper to remove the worst of the grease.

When he returns, it’s to find that the entire team besides Steve is there. Bruce and Natasha sit with their heads together, and if Tony didn’t know better he’d say that Natasha is actually smiling. Clint is having a fork fight with Wanda, and Pietro is helping Ana. He must have agreed to not run because he’s going at normal speed.

“Sit, sit, Anthony. Time to eat.”

Tony looks towards the elevator, waiting for a sign that Steve is coming. Nothing.

“He’s helping Bucky with his physical therapy.”

Natasha’s green eyes greet Tony, words hidden behind the slight arch of her left eyebrow. Ignoring it, he moves to sit down and gratefully accepts the plate of food. Everyone around him engages in conversation, and he rather mechanically replies whenever someone asks him a question.

His mind, however, is downstairs with Steve.

Tony had never expected this. In the beginning, Steve seemed super cool. He seemed to respect Howard and understand that Tony was far more than appearances suggested. Tony had truly thought that Steve understood that the world needed heroes, not lawless vigilantes.

Now, Steve is another person on a list of many that can’t see beyond Tony’s age and believes themselves to be the highest level of reasoning and power.

“Anthony, are you ok?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Really? Is that why you’ve barely eaten anything and failed to notice that everyone else is gone?”

Snapping out of his mind, Tony blinks and notices that the table is empty, except for Ana and Jarvis. His food is cold, and his shoulders ache from the tension built into them like cement.

“I’ll heat up your food, love,” Ana says, taking his plate. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell us what’s wrong?”

 _I don’t want to_ , Tony thinks.

However, Ana and Jarvis always have the best advice, so maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if he told them what was up.

“Steve thinks I’m just some stupid kid.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Ana tuts. “Silly man.”

“And he’s wrong, you know that, don’t you Anthony?”

The plate is hot to touch when it’s placed back in front of him, and Tony takes a bite of the scalding potatoes to avoid answering.

“You’re not sure, now, are you?”

Dangerous, that’s what Jarvis and Ana are. If Tony thought that Natasha was good at reading people, it’s nothing on the skill that Jarvis and Ana seem to secretly carry.

“I have an idea. How about we go visit Aunt Peggy? It’s been a long time since you’ve seen her, and she knows Steve better than anyone.”

Head perking up at that, Tony begins to shovel food into his mouth.

“Mind your manners, Anthony. We’ll call ahead first and make sure that she’s OK before we start making any rash decisions. It’s quite late, we may have to wait until the morning.”

Jarvis steps out of the kitchen to place the call, and Ana washes up the dishes from the meal. Tony eats at a more sedate pace, listening to Ana hum softly and the quiet murmur of conversation from Jarvis.

A strange feeling of _home_ washes over him, as though this is all he could ever want from life.

Obviously, he misses his parents and wishes every day that they could be with him. He cares deeply for all of the team, even when they don’t seem to care much for him. He wouldn’t give them up for the world, but having Ana and Jarvis near him, and the feeling of pure, family domesticity that surrounds him is warm.

“Ana, do you think I’m family?”

Tony isn’t sure where the question came from, but he wishes he could shove it back somewhere dark and cold. He doesn’t want to hear the answer if it’s not ‘yes’.

“Of course,” Ana tells him, her hands frozen in the suds filled sink. “And don’t you dare ever think otherwise.”

Smiling into his food, Tony says nothing more, but the warmth grows.

“Anthony, get ready,” Jarvis says as he re-enters the kitchen. “There’s a problem, and we need to visit your aunt.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, school's out until Monday. The virus is spreading faster, and the students won't be returning for a while. We're in a state of uncertainty right now about our jobs and what this means for the country as a whole, but fortunately for you guys, this also means I have a lot of time for writing!  
> As you can probably tell, the story is on the downward slope to the end. I'll hopefully have another update ready for Friday, and for my WattPad story, too. I'm mad productive now!
> 
> I hope you all stay safe and healthy!


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64

 

Tony shakily unbuckles the seatbelt, uncertainty clouding his mind and fear gripping at his heart. Happy steps out of the car and opens their door, giving Tony a solemn nod. Jarvis and Ana come around to his left, and Tony takes the offered hand to hold. Jarvis’ leather gloves are warm, and they feel like the times in his younger days when Jarvis and Ana would take him for a walk around the park.

The sun is setting in the distance, and the windows of the buildings around them glow pink. The wind carries the scent of flowers from the nearby botanical garden. By the door ahead of them, a couple of doctors are smoking and laughing amongst themselves. A girl walking down the street is smiling as she talks on the phone.

They say nothing as they walk through the automatic doors of the hospital. The smell is the first thing that hits Tony. Disinfectant, disease and desperation. He hates it. He hates that people here are sick and he can’t help. He hates that hospitals have to be so proper, so without life and joy. These halls are the last thing some people see, and they’re so empty and sad that it makes Tony want to scream.

Pressure on his hand makes him look up to see Jarvis’ face twitching.

“We’re here to see Mrs Carter?” Ana tells a nurse.

“It’s quite late, you’re almost out of time.”

“We apologise. We just hope to speak to a dear family friend. It’d be a shame if we couldn’t visit her before of hospital regulations and time frames.”

Ana’s voice is stern, and if Tony weren’t so worried about Aunt Peggy, he’d take some pleasure in the way she is bypassing her usual politeness.

“Right this way.”

Stepping from behind the desk, the nurse leads them down the hallway and into a private room. She pulls aside a moss green curtain and reveals Aunt Peggy laying in bed, her hair fanned out over the white pillows. She’s asleep.

“Aunt Peggy,” Tony whispers, stepping forward.

Her cheeks are shallow, and her skin is far paler than the last time her saw her. She looks so small in the bed, and the oxygen mask and other numerous machines that link with her via tubes. The beeping is incessant, and although it’s a sign that Peggy’s heart is beating, it’s also a sign that there’s something wrong.

“What happened?” Jarvis asks, as he slips his hand into Peggy’s.

“She took a turn in the night and had to be admitted. Her children left only fifteen minutes ago. She’ll be moved into a hospice within the week.”

“Hospice?” Tony repeats, tearing his eyes away to look at the nurse.

The nurse chooses this moment to bow out, leaving Tony, Jarvis and Ana to turn back to Peggy.

“She’s dying?”

Warm arms wrap around his shoulders, and Tony is pulled into Jarvis. He hides his face in the soft sweater, trying not to think about it. His eyes itch.

Soft rustling from behind him makes him twitch, but Tony isn’t ready to show his face again. He needs to take a few deep breaths first.

“Edwin, what on earth are you doing in my bedroom?”

“We’re in a hospital, Peggy.”

“Absurd. I’m in my nightgown, do you think this is appropriate?”

Tony turns his head to the side and finds that Peggy has pulled her oxygen mask down. She’s eyeing Ana and Jarvis suspiciously, though the tightness around her eyes soften as her gaze shifts to Tony.

“And who’s this little guy?”

Hearing those words is akin to climbing into an ice bath and dunking his head beneath the freezing water.

“I’m Tony,” he offers, throat forcing him to choke the words out.

“Hello, Tony. You look awfully like that miserable old cod’s son. Howard Senior may be an angry bore, but his son Howard Junior is the sweetest thing.”

“Oh.”

“What can I do for you all, anyway? Are you here on official S.H.I.E.L.D. business?”

“We’re just coming by to check in on you, Peggy. Is there anything you need us to get you?” Ana asks. “Books, extra blankets? Some chocolate, perhaps?”

“Oh no, don’t you worry yourself, Ana, love. I’m perfectly content where I am.”

“Maybe we should go,” Jarvis suggest. “We can come back and visit another time.”

“With some warning, please Edwin.”

“Of course.”

Peggy closes her eyes and settles back against the bed. Jarvis reaches over and puts the mask back in place. Peggy doesn’t even stir, and Ana tucks the blanket back around Peggy’s body, and then they leave.

 

* * *

 

“I’ll go speak to Steven,” Ana elects. “He should know.”

Tony, who had fallen asleep in the car, hears the words but isn’t able to put them into sense. He shifts in his seat, his face pressing up against a cold window.

“I’ll carry the boss upstairs,” another voice – Happy, Tony’s mind provides – offers.

“Thank you, Mr Hogan. I would do it myself, but I’m not as strong as I once was.”

The cold pillow is pulled away and replaced instantly with something soft and warm. A moment later, Tony can feel arms wrapping around his waist and thighs, and he’s being lifted out of the seat.

“Just like when he was a baby,” Happy whispers. “Car rides were the only way to get him to sleep, remember?”

“I remember never being able to sleep myself.”

“I think I slept two hours a night for the first three years. I practically lived in that car.”

Tony doesn’t pay them any mind. He’s caught between being awake and asleep, and if he has the choice, he’s definitely leaning towards being asleep. The arms holding him are steady, and Happy’s breathing pulls Tony further down, until finally, he’s dreaming.

 

* * *

 

“Morning, Sir.”

“When did you start calling me ‘sir’?” Tony mumbles, as he pulls the duvet over his head.

“It’s seven fifty-two am, and Mrs Jarvis has started making breakfast and Mr Jarvis is setting the table. Mr Rogers is currently with them and has requested your presence.”

Pulling a face, Tony reaches over to his desk chair and grabs the large MIT hoodie that Rhodey gave to him. He pulls it over his head, and then goes to wash his face in the bathroom and take care of business.

“Why does Steve want me to be there? I thought he hated me.”

“As you’ve yet to install mind-reading technology into my servers, so I’m afraid that is a question I cannot answer for you.”

“So much snark for a man in a computer.”

“I am who I am.”

Tony rolls his eyes as he dries his hands and then pulls some socks on.

“Here goes nothing,” Tony mutters.

Tony breathes in the smell of breakfast and pads into the kitchen, eyeing Steve warily as he accepts a glass of orange juice from Jarvis.

“Morning, Anthony. How did you sleep?” Jarvis asks, with a kiss on Tony’s head.

“Not when there are people around,” Tony whines, rearranging his bed head. “And I slept fine. Though, I don’t remember going to bed.”

“You fell asleep on the ride home, just like when you were a baby.”

Tony ducks his head when he notices Steve smiling fondly. He doesn’t want Steve to think even less of him.

“Pancakes or bacon sandwiches?”

“Bacon Sandwiches, please, Ana.”

Tony makes sure to smile at Ana, and then he takes a long drink of juice. Steve is watching him, clearly waiting for an in to start the conversation, but Tony wants to put it off for as long as possible. Nothing that Steve has said in the last week or so has been worth Tony’s time, and now is not a time that Tony thinks he can emotionally handle more derisive comments about his age and mental abilities from a man he once considered to be the earths mightiest hero.

“Tony, I wanted to apologise. I’ve said a lot of things recently that I regret, and really didn’t mean. I understand that an apology won’t take the words back, but it’s the best I can offer until I’m able to show you that I mean them.”

Wait for it, Tony thinks. Wait for him to ruin the apology with more comments about how Tony is too young to understand.

“You’re young, but I let that cloud my judgement. You’re also wise beyond your years, and smarter than most. We’re both looking at the accords differently, and that’s normal. Different opinions are to be expected with something like this, but that doesn’t give me a right to say what I did.”

Oh.

“I would like to take a day to prove to you that I truly am sorry. Maybe I can take you out today? Perhaps we could visit a museum? Talk, man to man? Perhaps we can even visit a park?”

“Uh.” Tony’s mind falls into disarray, and he looks over to find Jarvis giving him ‘the nod’. “Sure.”

Steve’s bright smile helps cement that the man is serious, and that only serves to freak Tony out. It means the man is serious.

“I’ll give Happy a call. He can drive you around.”

“Cool,” Tony mumbles. “Thanks.”

“This day will be swell,” Steve says to no one in particular.

“As long as you bring Tony back in one piece, then I’ll be happy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve promises with a nod in Ana’s direction. “How about you meet me in the garage in an hour?”

“Sure.”

“Happy will be there waiting.”

With that, Steve leaves.

“This is the worst plan ever. Why did you let me agree to that?”

“I think he’s being sincere, dear,” Ana smiles. “Maybe you’ll have a lovely day.”

“Doubt it.”

“Well, you won’t if you go into it with that attitude, Anthony,” Jarvis says. “Now, eat your breakfast. I’ll set you some clothes out. And please leave that jumper on your bed so I can put it in the wash.”

They both know Tony is going to hide it the moment he’s in his room. It still smells a little like Rhodey. Next time his friend comes to visit, he’ll let Jarvis wash it, and then Rhodey can wear it for a day, and then he’ll give it back to Tony. It’s routine. Jarvis just likes to pretend that Tony is going to change.

Once breakfast is over, Tony rushes to his room to hide his jumper in the back of his wardrobe and then take a shower. Once he’s finished, he dresses in the outfit Jarvis has left on his bed; a red shirt, black trousers and a smart-casual blazer. Not what Tony would have chosen for himself, but when he goes out in public, he has the Stark name to uphold.

“You look very smart,” Ana tells him when he makes his way outside. “Come here, let me comb your hair.”

“My hair is fine.”

“It’s a mess!”

“It’s called ‘style’, Ana. Honestly, it looks good. I’ve seen it on TV.”

“You cannot go outside looking scruffy.”

“Ana, _please,_ I look cool.”

“Let him, Ana. Maybe when the paparazzi snap a picture of him and put it in the gossip rags, he’ll see how ridiculous it looks.”

“J, don’t be mean.”

“It’s a fair warning, Anthony.”

Scowling, Tony grabs his mobile phone and shoves it in his pocket. He needs Yin to be at his side all the time, now, else he feels a little anxious.

“If Steve says anything mean, or something happens, Yinsen will immediately contact you,” Tony says.

“Anthony, you’re going to a museum. What could possibly happen?”

Tony shrugs and smiles.

“Bye, guys.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised!


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OOoooooh no.

Chapter Sixty-Five

The car ride is possibly the most awkward car ride ever in the history of car rides. Steve, sitting on the right, keeps trying to start mundane conversations and Tony, in his deepening anxiety, is unable to partake. He tries, but his answers are falling flat even to his own ears.

“Weather is nice today,” Steve notes.

“Yes.”

Cringing, Tony ignores the laugh that Happy is trying to hide behind a cough. He can’t blame the man. This must be as uncomfortable for him as it is for Tony and Steve.

“How long do you think you will be in the museum for?” Happy asks.

“I’m not sure. I imagine that it’ll be quite large? Maybe a few hours.”

“Tony has his phone on him. You just tell me when you’re ready and I’ll come to get you. I’ll be nearby.”

“Thanks, Hap. You’re the best.”

“Don’t you forget it, kiddo.”

They pull up in front of the museum, and Happy is quick to let them out of the car.

“See you later,” Happy says, messing up Tony’s hair with a ruffle. “Behave.”

“I _always_ behave,” Tony barks, using the window to rearrange his hair.

“I can name several instances where that’s not true.”

Tony sticks his tongue out at Happy and then turns to check that Steve didn’t see. He doesn’t want Steve to think that Tony is going to cause him any problems.

“Come on, then,” Steve smiles.

Happy waves at them as they walk up the paved ground towards the large double doors that lead into the history museum. There’s hardly anyone around, on account of it being a school day and nine-thirty in the morning.

“Perfect. I’m not yet used to busy places,” Steve admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m not a fan either.”

“Really? You’ve always seemed so… _social._ ”

Tony snorts and shakes his head.

“You’re not?” Steve asks.

“No.”

“Do you care to talk about it?”

“Uh, there’s not much to say. I just don’t get along with people. Mostly people my age, I guess. My best friend is way older than me, you know. Kids at my school were, I don’t know, kinda mean.”

“Because you were smart?”

“That’s what Jarvis says.”

“I think Jarvis is right. I can’t see any reason why anyone would truly dislike you.”

Heat crawls up Tony’s neck, and he ducks his head to hide how weirdly pleased that admission made him feel.

“Thanks.”

The air inside the museum smells dusty, and it reminds Tony of the days when his dad would take him by the hand and lead him through history. His father, as much as he may have denied it, had a knack for telling stories, and he’d weave his knowledge into a narration. Tony would hang onto every word with interest, and his father would let him ask all the questions in the world, even if they didn’t make sense.

“I used to want to go to museums all the time when I was younger, but I was usually too sick to be outside for long. Buck would go with school sometimes and draw these little pictures for me. He’d tell me everything he learnt, and it felt like I didn’t miss out on anything at all.”

“That sounds nice,” Tony says absently.

He doesn’t think much about the legend that Steve used to be sick a lot. It takes a lot away from the man that Tony has gotten to know. The bullheadedness, the sheer force, the unending power that he seems to carry with him even at his most chill. Maybe those aspects of his personality are remnants of his childhood spent in a state of constant vulnerability.

“It was.”

“Do you think Buck will go back to normal soon?”

The wording isn’t nice, Tony realises a little too late. Fortunately, Steve doesn’t take any offence from it, and simply sighs.

“I hope so.”

A lot can be said in the silence that follows, but Tony can’t think of anything worthwhile. Soft, museum music plays over the speakers, and it fills the spaces between their words nicely.

Tony knows within twenty minutes of being in the museum that Steve isn’t really paying any attention to the things on display.

“We should skip this part,” Tony says suddenly, as he realises what they’re seeing.

Surrounding them are figurines of the commandos and placards with details of their lives following the war. Steve snaps to attention, eyes grazing over the information with a sadness that Tony can _feel_.

“No. Let’s look.”

“Is that healthy?”

“Probably not.”

Tony has nothing to say in the face of Steve’s self-deprecating smile, and he allows Steve to lead the way through the exhibit.

“You know, the Howling Commandos spent more time being a pain in my arse than they did saving lives. Beneath all the heroism that people remember, we were still men in the midst of war. Dum Dum used to tell the _worst_ jokes. Jacques would mutter things under his breath that only Gabe understood and refused to translate. Jim spent most of his time talking about how many women he had waiting for him in ‘Frisco, Monty and Bucky would argue about books for _days,_ and I was just there, listening to their nonsense and trying to not think about how the war might end without us.”

They stop before the mannequins of the Commando’s, each looking regal and battle-worn. Tony tries to imagine them being normal men, people that laughed and joked in the throes of war. Men who loved. Men who _lived_. In everything that Tony had ever heard about them, he never once thought of them as being actually real. Like the past presidents were strictly presidents, and the people beneath the title simply didn’t exist.

But of course, these men weren’t always at war. Things existed beyond the horrors that happened around them. They were children once. They were sons, boyfriends, best friends.

“I miss them,” Steve admits. “But I’ve come to terms with being—”

In a flash of light, Tony is thrown across the room, his back smashing through a post of Steve punching Hitler, and landing on the cold, marble floor. His head smacks against the wall, and for a moment, everything is white, and all sounds are drowned out by a loud ringing.

Then, as pain sparks across his skull, the room comes back into focus and Tony can see Steve fighting off several men in black tactical gear.

“Stay down,” Steve shouts.

“Like hell,” Tony mutters. “Yin, can you hear me?”

“Always, sir.”

“Send the suit. Operation ‘Ghost’, understand?”

“Suit is on it’s way to your location.”

Tony pushes himself to his feet, using the wall for leverage, and slowly makes his way towards a spot that is hidden from view. A body flies past, crumpling against the wall and thumping to the ground, squashing a model-town of the army bases. The man groans and Tony scarpers away. He’s too vulnerable like this. He can’t let himself get caught like this.

“You won’t get away with this, Rumlow.”

“Jokes on you, Cap, cause we already have.”

Rumlow? That name sounds weirdly familiar. Didn’t the dude work for Shield? What is he doing attacking Steve?

“As of this very moment, the entirety of Shield is after you. Crimes against the country are heavily frowned upon.”

“What?” Tony says, too loudly to have been sensible.

Eyes turn on him, and Rumlow waves his hand, dispatching several of his men towards Tony.

“Crap.”

“Tony, _run!”_

With no other option immediately available and holding onto the humble knowledge that alone he’s infinitely useless, Tony does exactly as Steve demands. Jumping over a display of the commando’s hats and running through seven-foot-tall electronic personality displays, Tony rushes out of the way of danger and into the arms of more danger.

“You’re not going anywhere, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjourno!  
> Been back at work this past week, but we've been put to work in separate rooms to lower the risk of spreading. All of my teachings have been done over the phone, so mad stress cause we're having to make a lot of online worksheets.  
> However, I'm not yet infected, and I hope you aren't either!  
> Have a good day!


	66. Chapter 66

“Now what?” A gruff voice demands from somewhere behind Tony. “We got the brat. The soldier is on the run. And to make things worse, the rest of the Avengers are going to be hot on our tail.”

“Don’t question me. I know what I’m doing.”

Tony fights back the urge to snicker. There’s no way they know what they’re doing. The knowledge doesn’t do much to help him, but it does wonders for his mood. Tied up, with duct tape firmly over his mouth, Tony figures he doesn’t have much to be happy about.

“And the kid? We’re just gonna keep him here? We’re not running a day-care, Rumlow.”

“He’s dangerous. We can’t just let him go.”

Compliment city, over here, Tony thinks. There probably aren’t many twelve-year-olds that get the honour of being called ‘dangerous’ by a grown-up. Especially not a super-secret double-agent. Obviously, if people knew the truth about the Iron Man thing, more people would consider Tony to be dangerous.

Speaking of, where _was_ Iron Man? Yinsen should have deployed it ages ago. It shouldn’t be relying on the phone – which had been confiscated within moments – to get his location. His watch has a honing signal.

“Don’t give me that crap. Stark is more dangerous here than he is anywhere else. Didn’t he fight his way out of a cave? He’s a _child._ If he can do that—”

“You keep talking back, and I’ll put a gun in your mouth, understand? He’s not a problem. We’ve got signal blockers all over this place. No one knows where we are, and no one can find him.”

“It’s not the other’s I’m worried about,” the man complains, throwing a disdainful look over at Tony.

Watching them like a TV, Tony tries not to appear too panicked by the news. Even Yin isn’t advanced enough to bypass a signal blocker. His one real hope has been torn away so violently that Tony feels near-breathless.

The man isn’t wrong. Tony is a threat on his own, but that just means things are going to be more complicated. And complicated means he’ll be here for much longer. Considering how unstable the two men are, that means that Tony can’t possibly predict what they’re going to do. They could really hurt him, which would only further delay his escape. Which, in turn, could get him more hurt.

Jeez.

Why is he Number One Target for kidnapping? Can’t people just leave him alone? Why is he in such high demand?

Rumlow and his lackeys continue to wander around the room, talking into their phones and generally making no sense.

That doesn’t mean that Tony has failed to put the pieces where they belong.

HYDRA has been in S.H.I.E.L.D. for lord knows how long, and Rumlow is working for the wrong side. Tony has no idea _how_ many people in S.H.I.E.L.D. are secretly HYDRA agents. Still, he’s going to ensure that truth is revealed sooner, rather than later.

How they didn’t realise this earlier is beyond him. He’s been taken in by HYDRA, and he knew there was a mole somewhere. He’d just allowed himself to be caught up in everything. Life has happened _swiftly_ since he was kidnapped from his parents funeral, so he’s not had much chance to delve deeper into things.

He regrets that now, obviously.

He also regrets going to the museum with Steve.

Though, if he’s honest, this isn’t the problem he imagined coming up against. He figured that he’d probably be battling against Steve’s trauma from the memories it would have brought forward. At the very least, guilt from anything that eluded to his family’s business taking lives.

Being kidnapped was not on today’s itinerary.

But he’s here now, and so he needs to find a way out.

Or hey, maybe not.

“It’s Iron Man!” Rumlow screeches, as a wall crumbles.

Dust tickles Tony’s throat, stings at his eyes, blinds him to the action. An arm wraps around his waist and hoists him into the air, pushing against his diaphragm and leaving him breathless.

“Get off,” Tony chokes.

“I’ll shoot him!”

Cold metal presses against his temple. Ice spreads through his body, and he stiffens.

“Put the boy down, and minimal harm will come to you.”

The gun presses harder, and Tony squirms.

“Put the boy down.”

The dust clears, and through the haze of it all, Tony finds Steve, Clint, Nat, and Bruce coming in to flank the armour. Still, it would be foolish to feel safe. None of them is fast enough to save Tony if the man decides to pull the trigger.

“Don’t kill me,” Tony begs. “That goes for everyone.”

“Shut up, brat,” the man hisses in his ear. “Listen up. If any of you move, I’m going to put a bullet in his head.”

The man takes a step backwards.

“I’m serious.”

No one moves, and the man takes another step back. And then another, and another, and another.

“Don’t jump!” Clint shouts.

_Jump?_

And the next thing Tony is aware of is an awful weightlessness and air rushing against him, making his clothes flap wildly. Before he even has the sense to cry out, a pair of arms grab him mid-fall, and suddenly he’s flying.

“Hey.”

Looking up, Tony wonders if he’s died and gone to heaven. The man smiles and winks. He pulls up, and lands on the balcony that Tony hadn’t even realised was there.

“Rumlow got away,” Steve growls, as he stalks forward.

“Sorry, man. Did you want me to grab the kid or the bad guy?”

Glass crunches beneath his feet as he’s set down. Eyes darting between Steve and the flying man, Tony steps back, only to have a new set of hands grab at him.

“Tony, Jesus Christ, never do that again,” Clint says, peeling the duct tape from his mouth.

The man with the wings helps untie Tony.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, jeez,” Tony complains, rubbing his wrists.

Clint pulls him in for a hug.

“This is why we never go to museums.”

From his place against Clint’s chest, he can see how Nat rolls her eyes in fond exasperation. Tony can also see the tightness around her eyes, and the tension in Steve’s shoulders. Bruce is frowning at the suit, and Tony smirks at him, needing something that isn’t dire to focus on.

“You OK, Bruce?” Tony asks.

“Fine, fine. Just… curious.”

Natasha looks over to see Bruce walking around the suit, and then her eyes catch Tony. Knowing that she can see through literally everyone, Tony smiles innocently.

“Well,” Nat says. “We should get Tony home and then start investigating.”

Steve’s attention seems to snap towards them like a rubber band.

“I told you to run.”

Tony’s jaw drops at the accusation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil late again. I've started a Brooklyn 99 fic, even after I promised myself that I wouldn't start another project while I've got so many on the go. I also started a new Wattpad fic while my other is still being written.  
> Oh lordy.


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the things are happening.

# Chapter Sixty-Seven

 

“Why didn’t you run?”

At first, all Tony registers is that he’s not falling anymore, and he’s safe, and people whom he trusts with his life are stood around him. Then, the question hits him square in the stomach, and he looks Steve in the eyes. He searches for something that tells him Steve isn’t really accusing him of letting himself get caught.

“I did run,” Tony says.

Tony feels as though he’s holding back a barrage of angry accusations, which isn’t like him, but something about Steve is just always rubbing him the wrong way.

“You were caught,” Steve shouts.

Stepping back, eyes wide, Tony feels a shiver run down his spine.

“Jeez, Steve. Remember he’s _twelve,_ right?” Clint shakes his head and slowly manoeuvres himself in front of Tony.

“He told me he was a genius,” Steve huffs.

“Rogers,” Natasha barks. “What has gotten into you?”

With a great breath, Steve seems to deflate before their eyes.

“You nearly died,” Steve whispers. “And I couldn’t save you.”

Tony’s mind flashes back to when he was five years old, and his father had taken him into work. The idea, if Tony remembers correctly, was for Tony to play in the work nursery. His parents were getting worried about his lack of social interactions outside of the house, so they wanted to give him the opportunity to make friends his own age.

Unfortunately, Tony wasn’t entirely as invested in that plan as his parents were. Within an hour, he’d left the playroom without the carers noticing, and started to explore.

Tony doesn’t remember the day all that well. He couldn’t accurately say how long he was missing for, but Tony does remember how angry his father was when he was found, taking a nap under his dad’s desk in his office.

Tony had cried from the moment his father shouted until he went to sleep that night in Jarvis’ arms.

 _“You shouldn’t run off, Anthony,”_ Jarvis had said. _“You scared your father close to death.”_

Howard had woken him the next morning with a hug and an apology. Tony had held on tight for the whole day, apologising every few minutes, until his father promised he wasn’t angry anymore.

“Sorry,” Tony whispers, poking his head around Clint’s arm. “I tried to run.”

“I know you did. I’m sorry. You just… Jesus, he threw you out a window.”

Tony bites back an ‘it’s not the first time that’s happened’ and nods instead.

“Let’s get home,” Bruce says, tearing he eyes away from the suit. “Jarvis and Ana were very worried about you. Sorry to say, Steve, but I think you’ve lost the privilege of taking Tony out for the day.”

Steve laughs, but his lips thin.

“Bruce, you take Tony home. We need to go find Fury.”

* * *

Tony and Bruce arrive back home less than thirty minutes later. Bruce talks about how far Y.I.N. has come, and how amazing it is that Tony has managed to create such a marvellous artificial intelligence.

“It’s almost as though he’s a real person.”

“He is,” Tony insists. “He’s learning, he almost has a body, he’s smart. Yin, you’re a real boy, right?”

“Unfortunately sir, I am not. You will have to make friends that are not created in your workshop.”

“Rude,” Tony mutters.

Bruce laughs and squeezes Tony’s shoulder.

“Anthony Stark, where _have_ you been?”

Ignoring what sounds like panicked anger, Tony throws himself into Jarvis’ arms.

“We were attacked,” Tony explains as he pulls away. “By Hydra!”

“Honestly,” Ana clicks her tongue. “Don’t they have anything better to do than to attack people. Especially Tony.”

“I’m just a _super_ valuable asset,” Tony shrugs with a cocky smile.

“Oh, hush.” Despite her apparent annoyance, Ana pulls him in for a hug.

“Steve isn’t allowed to take you out of this house for a long time,” she says.

Once Jarvis and Ana have calmed down a little, Tony is released from their arms, and he’s free to head down into his workshop. He brings up the schematics for BARF, swiping away at the note to change the name.

He throws himself in, ignoring the little shivers of chill that start to rock his body. It doesn’t matter that his hands are shaking. He just takes a bit more care than usual as he codes each separate circuit board, before soldering them into the headset. He only burns his fingers four or five times over the next six hours.

“Sir, we have a message from the Princess of Wakanda.”

“A princess?” Tony says shakily, smiling. “Wants to talk to moi?”

“Indeed. She is requesting you take the time to schedule her in some point today.”

“Excellent. Tell the Princess I’ll call in an hour if that pleases her majesty.”

“Indeed, sir.”

The music resumes forty minutes later, he’s interrupted again.

“Sir, you have received an email from Jessica.”

“Who?” Tony mumbles distracted as he screws in some boards to the interior of the goggles.

“Your biological mother, sir.”

Hands growing still, except for a near-imperceptible quake, Tony stares at the tabletop, wondering what he’s supposed to from here.

“What does it say?”

 

_‘Anthony, I understand and respect your choice. If that ever changes, you’re free to come whenever, but I will not pressure you. It’s a difficult time for me, and while I’m not ready to go into details, let’s just say that not long after I gave birth, I was removed from society. I’ve recently been set free, and I’m still learning my way around healthy human interaction._

_I would genuinely love to meet you. We can go for a meal, or for a walk around a museum? Anything. You name it._

_Love,_

_Jessica._

_P.S – I imagine it wasn’t hard for you to discover my true identity. I shouldn’t be surprised. I hope it doesn’t change anything.’_

 

“Put it on the back burner,” Tony says.

There’s no time to be emotional. Tony needs his head on straight if he’s going to be getting in contact with a real-live princess. He can’t be thinking about biological moms and being secretly adopted.

“T-minus twenty minutes until your call with Princess Shuri.”

“Thanks, Yin.”

“Sir, your body temperature is normal, as is the temperature of the workshop. Despite these facts, you are shivering. Are you well?”

Putting down the soldering iron, Tony turns back to the keyboard.

“I’m fine.”

“Maybe we should allow someone with medical training make those decisions?” Yin suggests.

“When did you become so pushy?”

“I am a learning A.I. I am constantly altering behavioural traits to suit your needs. Sir.”

“Well, give it a rest. I’ve got a call with a Princess. Jarvis will just make me go to bed.”

“You are unwell enough to warrant bed-rest?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Certainly sounded like it.”

Tony cannot believe what he is hearing. Pride swells in his chest, and he realises that Yin’s personality is growing with every passing day. It’s such an incredible feat, and he cannot wait to see what else Yin has to offer in the future.

“Sir, your call with Princess Shuri has connected.”

Tony turns around and comes face to face with a holographic screen.

“Hi.”

The girl on the screen smiles.

“Anthony Stark. It is a pleasure to meet a fellow child genius.”

Tony has no idea what to say.

“Oh, do I make you nervous?” she asks with a twitch of her eyebrow.

“No!”

“Sure. Now, your message – that you shouldn’t have been able to get through my systems, don’t think we won’t be talking about that, by the way – said you had something you wanted to talk about?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s about your Vibranium.”

The girls face shifts quickly, from smiling and careless to hard and questioning.

“What do you know about that?”

“I know that you have lots of it. And, uh, I wanted to ask whether or not you knew that my Grandfather took some.”

Apparently not, if the narrowing of her eyes is anything to go on.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because stealing is wrong.”

“You say that as though it is obvious.”

“It is.”

“And from here, what do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know,” Tony shrugs. “I haven’t thought this far. I guess I just thought you might want to know?”

“I do. And my father will be most interested. Thank you for this information. Now,” she says, her smile returning, “what do you know about the boy they’re calling ‘Spider-man’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's late. I have no excuses.
> 
>  
> 
> However, I'm making it up to you with a little gift.
> 
>  
> 
> Yo demons, it's ya boi, Spider-Man.
> 
> Love you guys.   
> Peace Out.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested in the Jessica character, she's in my fiction story over on Wattpad. The story is called 'Trapped in Paradise'. Don't feel pressured to read it, but it'd be so cool if you did.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a story on Wattpad under the name STStevens for those who are interested.  
> I also have a book on Amazon under the same name (called A Daily Convenience).
> 
> If you find any mistakes in this fic, don't hesitate to let me know! Improvements come from criticism, after all.
> 
> Peace Out
> 
> WPx


End file.
